“Oh, the Violins!”–When Vultures Cry

James Alan Fields, Jr. was once known as a “kind” and “shy” young boy–a “gentle giant,” according his teachers and classmates in Kentucky and Ohio. In reality this fat, bloated turnip and self-hating Jew was inwardly a seething mass of white racist ressentiment, who by the 9th grade already held deeply entrenched, radical views on race. Throughout high school he studied intensively the Waffen SS under a Mr. Weimer who, in his words, “used all the tricks to really ram home how evil and wrong the Nazis were” and–upon learning about Mr. Fields’ deliberately running over 14 people at the Charlottesville rally on August 12–“definitely feel like (he) failed.”

Unfortunately, Mr. Weimer did, but he’s not to be faulted for that. If Mr. Weimer can be faulted for anything it was naively thinking he could open a mind which was closed from the start.

As the fallout from “Bleeding Kansas, Part Two” continues¹, many participants and observers seem to be cracking up. Many of them have since revealed themselves as simply being swaggering blowhards who thought this “white power” business was just another good ole fashioned game of “cowboys and Indians.” Jason Kessler, one of the head Nazi goons at the August 12th rally, was chased off the podium by infuriated protesters a few days later when he attempted to clarify what his goon squad had attempted to “achieve” at his “Unite the Right” rally. On the 18th of August, he sent an angry Tweet calling the late Heather Heyer (killed by James Alan Fields) a “fat, disgusting Communist” and that her death was “payback time” for the “94 million” Kessler claims were killed by Communism in the 20th century.² Kessler, of course, has backtracked, denounced his own words as “heinous” and is now claiming that he was drugged out on “Xanax, ambien and booze” when he wrote the tweet. The poor wittle thing is now claiming that he is under a “crushing amount of stress” and receives “daily” death threats. (Wow, Jason. How horrible. Welcome to our world.)

Christopher Cantwell, known as one of the toughest of the tough, one of the most uncompromising of the Nazi horde, made a name for himself by waving his pop-guns around while being interviewed for VICE magazine two years ago. (As a side note, it should be remembered that one of main organizers of “Unite the Right,” Gavin MacInness, was VICE’s chief editor about a decade ago.) In a more recent video an unshaven Mr. Cantwell can be seen sniffling and sobbing and shitting his pants at the very thought that the police might be after him, that he had never intended to be violent, that all that gun-waving he did on his previous videos was just “him talking shit.” The contrast between the previous muscle-bound Ubermensch and the latest driveling, sniffling little puddle of snot could not help but make one laugh. (Again, Chris, welcome to our world.)

And the tears, sniffling and snot rags didn’t end with Can’t-Well. When Donald Trump dragged his feet in responding to the outrage in Charlottesville, many people rightfully suspected that Herr Trump’s true sympathies lay with the neo-Confederates and alt-righters. This writer has always assumed the worst about the Orange Honky, so Trump’s half-assed and weak insinuations that Antifa was really to blame for Charlottesville came as no surprise. But most everyone else in the media was either naively outraged, or “outraged” in the most disingenuous and opportunistic way –like, for instance, certain establishment Republicans/Democrats, such as Paul Ryan, Charles Krauthammer and Mitch McConnell, who took advantage of Trump’s waffling to gain a high moral ground that they had never held in the entirety of their careers: as if it were even possible to attain “moral high ground” in contemporary American politics.

The downpour of crocodile tears and retractions began in earnest and lasted for about a week, especially after Logan began systematically exposing individual members of the Charlottesville rally. Pete Tefft was rightfully disowned by his family, which appears to have some sense of decency. Peter Cvjetanovic, 18, another disaffected white ethnic, angrily claimed that he was “not a Nazi” (all appearances notwithstanding) and was simply “marching with them” because…well, because he liked “white history,” that’s all. No nigger-hater, he. Jarrod Kuhn, a leading organizer and member of the allegedly defunct Daily Stormer, now claimed he was just a “moderate Republican.” (If he is, then that would explain a lot; that would explain Dubya, explain the Iraq War, and probably explain the late Ronald Reagan laying a wreath at the grave of SS soldiers in Germany back in the mid-1980s.)  Kuhn is now whining like a little girl and claiming that his “life is over.” It should have never begun.

Andrew Anglin, webmaster for Daily Stormer, has since decamped for Nigeria to get his chocolate fix. (It has been well known in Nazi circles that Anglin, despite his ferocious hatred for blacks, Muslims and Jews, has a secret sweet tooth for chocolate and caramel. The latter he buys in the Philippines and Cambodia.³) Clay Aiken, once America’s favorite hillbilly crooner, recanted his support for Donald Trump. (Super-jock rapper LL Cool J, however, did not.)

Wendy Osefo and Gianno Caldwell, two establishment Negroes–one left, one right–could be seen shamelessly and stupidly crying last week on Fox News. Abby Huntsman, alleged “journalist” and one of one of Murdoch’s alt-lite pinup girls, sat there sandwiched between the two of them and smirking the whole time. At one point Miss Huntsman shit her pants when negro Neocon Gianno Caldwell blubbered that Trump was “morally bankrupt.” Of course, anyone with a brain knows that such a statement is true, but Abby Cunstman does not. One actually wants to vomit looking at these three: two spades weeping like a couple of kids and that smug, self-satisfied, plastic-surgery-faced half-caste sellout between them, trying to keep the whole ship from drowning in crocodile tears.

These tears continued on Fox for at least another day from Melissa Francis and Kat Timpf, two more of Fox’s resident Playboy bunnies. Miss Francis supports Trump but Kat Timpf went in on the Grand Oompla Loompa, stating “it’s honestly crazy for me to have to comment on this right now, because I’m still in the phase where I’m wondering if it was actually real life what I just watched!” Well, it was, sadly enough. Call it The Unbearable Lightness of Being in Trumplandia, because after seeing the last year unfold one’s head starts to feel that lightness you get when one is about to pass out in horror–not so much for what you have just seen but with a premonition of what’s next.

Soon there was weeping left and right–literally. I didn’t like this silliness, and felt compelled to write this essay just to put all of this into some perspective. The icing on the cake for me was seeing this obese, shirtless, uncombed BLM woman foolishly weeping–again–while confronting an equally obese white man in full Confederate regalia, silent, stoic, unblinking, standing in front of General Lee’s statue in Charlottesville, VA. A bunch of other furious protesters surrounded the fat Rebel with curses and middle fingers. The police finally broke it up and arrested the fat Rebel, handcuffed him, and ever so gently stuffed him in the squad car, to which he responded, “I’m just here to honor him, that’s all.” At that point I would have had to agree with Miss Timpf about the unreality of it all.

America has become a bad Tom and Jerry cartoon. Perhaps it always was, when you think about it. After four centuries of unending, unceasing racial and ethnic violence in North America, the media’s pretended naivete about this basic American reality is worse than disingenuous. Why is Van Jones weeping on YouTube? What is it with all these “poor sapling” tears? I think I know, but I’m simply throwing the question out there for others who may not get it. Whatever the reason for all these crocodile tears, for all this faked outrage over the death of Heather Heyerª (the only person willing to lay down her life to end the alt-right)–please, just cut that out. Cut…That…Shit…Out. You look like a  bunch of idiots. Tears don’t stop fascists, not even crocodile tears.

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Cantwell: “Mommy, help me!!”

I guess that the Negroes to the left and right of us are trying to appeal to the conscience of a neoliberal global order that does not even see them, much less hear them. Or they are trying to appeal to the people living under that order who have been trained from day one neither to see nor to hear each other. Or they are trying to appeal to that small minority within the people who live under the Neoliberal order that can actually still feel, in the hope that they will take to the streets and cry with them in the Great Struggle of Tears to end structural white supremacy. The only problem with this approach is that structural white supremacy is represented not by sandlot bullies like Cantwell, Anglin and David Duke, but by Trump and Bannon, and behind them Hillary & Bill, Bush & Bush, the late Ronald Reagan, the late Margaret Thatcher, Obama, Ronald Dumbsfeld (sic), Theresa May, Jacques Chirac, Angela Merkel, Marcon, Berlusconi and Tony Blair. (The aforementioned people are definitely not Nazis but they certainly paved the way for their return, which is why I hold all of them accountable.)

 

 

Meanwhile Bannon has been kicked out for attacking Trump’s fan base (the neo-Confederates and fascists) and has scooted back to Breitbart, with conflicting reports as to whether he will support or attack Trump. Trump is digging in his heels and attacking the alt-Left, a political nonentity. Spencer is promising more far-right looney tunes in the weeks to come. James Alan Fields and the head of the North Carolina KKK are unapologetic and are not shedding any more tears than the Grand Oompa Loompa is.

Coincidentally it was a Marxist, Takiya Fatima Thompson, who also decided that weeping and wailing was bullshit and decided to buck the center-left trend. She  tore the Confederate statue down in Durham, North Carolina. It’s good to know that some people out there have some sense. Schoolteacher Yvette Felarca, who punched a neo-Nazi, said emphatically and without tears that clocking Nazis in the face was not a crime. And it isn’t. In this writer’s opinion she should have used a beer mug. The whole ideology Nazism anyway is violence personified. (By the way Ms. Falarca punched the Nazi in his stomach, and did not kick the Nazi in his face–unlike one of her white Antifa cohorts who, as I have noticed, has not been charged. So even white far-left radicals get preferential treatment under U.S. law, as opposed to their non-white counterparts. Maybe that explains why there’s been such a dearth of black, brown and yellow men at these demonstrations.)

The charges against Ms. Felarca are absurd. Felarca was, in her words, stabbed in the arm and hit on the head. A photo that I have seen of Felarca with a bandaged forehead confirms this. The Nazi in question–if you see the video–is twice the size of the petite, slender Felarca. I’m pretty sure that the Nazi who got “assaulted” by Ms. Felarca had to be rushed to the intensive care unit after those punches, which did not even bring him down–again, much unlike the white Antifa backers who toppled him into the street.

The pop-news site “Bustle” titles its article on Felarca, “This Middle School Teacher Argues Punching Nazis is Not a Crime.” No shit? General Eisenhower argued that bombing and shooting Nazis wasn’t a crime, either. He became the fucking President in 1953. Ms. Felarca is looking at jail time. What are you trying to get at with that title, Ms. Mendoza?

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Yvette Felarca: “I wont stop”–and no, she doesn’t cry

Many in the alt-right  suddenly lost their backbones when they realized that the establishment was not going to back them up. Of course the establishment is not going to rally to their side. The establishment, which is actually a bigger threat to human rights than Spencer’s ricky-tick Tiki-Torch mob, has its own interests at stake here, and outward displays of white supremacism are not on the agenda at the moment. It is much more important for the Neoliberal establishment (which, despite everything the Keks are spouting, is not in the least Marxist) to continue to build alliances and bridges with Third World billionaire stooges in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and Latin America, and consistently refine white supremacism to the point where it will no longer resemble fascism at all, but simply something natural. In this new Neoliberal order 500 Sierra Leoneans can perish in the blink of an eye and no one will be outraged to the extent that people were outraged over Ms. Heyer’s death. Those deaths did not register in the Western mind.

And neither did the 65 people shot over the previous weekend in Chicago. Most of them were black, of course, and these shootings were simply “business as usual.” No tears were shed over them. They were “niggers being niggers” to conservatives as well as neoliberals, who would prefer not to call black people “niggers”: that would be bad for business. It wants black people to think, talk and act in ways that define themselves as such. The nigger stereotype must be made real and self-perpetuating, without any work on the behalf of the Neoliberal order. The systematic dehumanization, depersonalization and dislocation of African Americans must continue, but with that air of banality that cuts very close to Hannah Arendt’s own definition of the “banality of evil.” The same goes for Sierra Leone, for Syria, for Venezuela, for the Congo, for the Philippines, for North Korea, and every other nation which Westerners think to be “inferior.” Violence, dysfunction, depersonalization will be defined as “real black/brown/yellow culture” to the Neoliberal order. Come to think of it, it already is. WELCOME TO OUR WORLD.

This is something that those on the Left–those who don’t break down in tears when the shit hits the fan–need to keep in mind. The alt-right are merely the Brown Shirts in this fight; the real assholes are far deeper entrenched politically, culturally and economically, and it will take more than tears and marches to contain their reactionist fuckery. It will take discipline and organization, and patience, forbearance and absolute determination to throw out the organized criminality and insanity that passes for the New World Order.

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“Sob brother, sob sister”…
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…yet no tears from this New Afrikan socialist

*Heather Heyer (1985-2017): “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.”

¹Bleeding Kansas, part one, was a dress-rehearsal for the First Civil War. The Second has yet to begin. According to the late George Carlin, who once joked about Civil War buffs in the 80s who liked to dress up and re-enact key Civil War battles down to the last detail, they do this “just in case we have to go through this again some time.”

²Of course, no one has ever suggested that Heather Heyer should have done the same to Mr. Fields, since corporate fascists and capitalists have killed at least 250 million people since 1800. This number may in fact be quite conservative.

³Anglin’s preference for darker (and underage) girls has made him the butt of ridicule among many hardcore white supremacists. He is also suspected of being Jewish, which is not unusual, since many Nazis suspect other Nazis that they personally despise as being Jewish. 

Also: Don’t be surprised to find that a lot of Nazis prefer “dark meat.” It is more common than you think. In fact one of the main reasons why these guys are Nazis is because they can’t get a “nice,” “ladylike,” “virginal” and “loyal” white woman who will give them the sense of authority they feel they can’t get in mainstream society.

ªNearly 500 people have died in mudslides in Sierra Leone meanwhile and nobody in the US has shed a tear over their deaths except, naturally, immigrants from Sierra Leone.

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The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, by Frederick Douglass

The following post is being made on the 155th anniversary of the deliverance of Frederick Douglass’s speech, “The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro.” The full speech (and not just the well-known excerpt erroneously entitled “What to the Slave is the 4th of July?”) is shown below. I did not post anything on the 4th of July–not out of spite, but because my mind was elsewhere. I haven’t even thought of, much less celebrated, this rather pointless holiday for many years. When I was a kid, July 4th was a time to go out and see the fireworks with family.  Today it’s just another day for an expat writer, watching his country fall apart from the vantage point of a neoliberal halfway house that somehow imagines itself to be “tolerant” and “multicultural.” 

Even the most casual reading of Douglass’s text will show one that very, very little has changed–in its essence–in the United States since 1852. We KNOW that slavery is gone, that there are no longer any “Indian Wars” where Native Americans are systematically stripped of their land (among other things), and that brutal 19th century-style colonial wars no longer take place–ON THE SURFACE. Scratch the surface and one can’t ignore the dozens of U.S. companies that utilize prison labor to manufacture their goods, as well as countless “illegals” who don’t get paid for cleaning out American toilets; we can’t ignore what happened and continues to happen Standing Rock, nor can one ignore Allen, South Dakota, on the Pine Ridge Reservation, where the average yearly income is a mere $1,539. And this is not to make mention of American law enforcement, whose crimes would not only disgrace savages but, if they saw them being committed live, would actually make them vomit!!

Anyhow, I’m too short on cash and time right now to be bothered even with writing something about the 4th of July. I have a new insurance plan under KSK (Kuenstlersozialkasse) and they keep climbing down my throat for money that I don’t really have.  

*

This speech was given July 5, 1852 in Rochester, New York. The speech below is shown in its entirety.

Mr. President, Friends and Fellow Citizens:

He who could address this audience without a quailing sensation, has stronger nerves than I have. I do not remember ever to have appeared as a speaker before any assembly more shrinkingly, nor with greater distrust of my ability, than I do this day. A feeling has crept over me quite unfavorable to the exercise of my limited powers of speech. The task before me is one which requires much previous thought and study for its proper performance. I know that apologies of this sort are generally considered flat and unmeaning. I trust, however, that mine will not be so considered. Should I seem at ease, my appearance would much misrepresent me. The little experience I have had in addressing public meetings, in country school houses, avails me nothing on the present occasion.

The papers and placards say that I am to deliver a Fourth of July Oration. This certainly sounds large, and out of the common way, for me. It is true that I have often had the privilege to speak in this beautiful Hall, and to address many who now honor me with their presence. But neither their familiar faces, nor the perfect gage I think I have of Corinthian Hall seems to free me from embarrassment.

The fact is, ladies and gentlemen, the distance between this platform and the slave plantation, from which I escaped, is considerable-and the difficulties to he overcome in getting from the latter to the former are by no means slight. That I am here to-day is, to me, a matter of astonishment as well as of gratitude. You will not, therefore, be surprised, if in what I have to say I evince no elaborate preparation, nor grace my speech with any high sounding exordium. With little experience and with less learning, I have been able to throw my thoughts hastily and imperfectly together; and trusting to your patient and generous indulgence I will proceed to lay them before you.

This, for the purpose of this celebration, is the Fourth of July. It is the birth day of your National Independence, and of your political freedom. This, to you, as what the Passover was to the emancipated people of God. It carries your minds back to the day, and to the act of your great deliverance; and to the signs, and to the wonders, associated with that act, and that day. This celebration also marks the beginning of another year of your national life; and reminds you that the Republic of America is now 76 years old. l am glad, fellow-citizens, that your nation is so young. Seventy-six years, though a good old age for a man, is but a mere speck in the life of a nation. Three score years and ten is the allotted time for individual men; but nations number their years by thousands. According to this fact, you are, even now, only in the beginning of your national career, still lingering in the period of childhood. I repeat, I am glad this is so. There is hope in the thought, and hope is much needed, under the dark clouds which lower above the horizon. The eye of the reformer is met with angry flashes, portending disastrous times; but his heart may well beat lighter at the thought that America is young, and that she is still in the impressible stage of her existence. May he not hope that high lessons of wisdom, of justice and of truth, will yet give direction to her destiny? Were the nation older, the patriot’s heart might be sadder, and the reformer’s brow heavier. Its future might be shrouded in gloom, and the hope of its prophets go out in sorrow. There is consolation in the thought that America is young.-Great streams are not easily turned from channels, worn deep in the course of ages. They may sometimes rise in quiet and stately majesty, and inundate the land, refreshing and fertilizing the earth with their mysterious properties. They may also rise in wrath and fury, and bear away, on their angry waves, the accumulated wealth of years of toil and hardship. They, however, gradually flow back to the same old channel, and flow on as serenely as ever. But, while the river may not be turned aside, it may dry up, and leave nothing behind but the withered branch, and the unsightly rock, to howl in the abyss-sweeping wind, the sad tale of departed glory. As with rivers so with nations.

Fellow-citizens, I shall not presume to dwell at length on the associations that cluster about this day. The simple story of it is, that, 76 years ago, the people of this country were British subjects. The style and title of your “sovereign people” (in which you now glory) was not then born. You were under the British Crown. Your fathers esteemed the English Government as the home government; and England as the fatherland. This home government, you know, although a considerable distance from your home, did, in the exercise of its parental prerogatives, impose upon its colonial children, such restraints, burdens and limitations, as, in its mature judgment, it deemed wise, right and proper.

But your fathers, who had not adopted the fashionable idea of this day, of the infallibility of government, and the absolute character of its acts, presumed to differ from the home government in respect to the wisdom and the justice of some of those burdens and restraints. They went so far in their excitement as to pronounce the measures of government unjust, unreasonable, and oppressive, and altogether such as ought not to be quietly submitted to. I scarcely need say, fellow-citizens, that my opinion of those measures fully accords with that of your fathers. Such a declaration of agreement on my part would not be worth much to anybody. It would certainly prove nothing as to what part I might have taken had I lived during the great controversy of 1776. To say now that America was right, and England wrong, is exceedingly easy. Everybody can say it; the dastard, not less than the noble brave, can flippantly discant on the tyranny of England towards the American Colonies. It is fashionable to do so; but there was a time when, to pronounce against England, and in favor of the cause of the colonies, tried men’s souls. They who did so were accounted in their day plotters of mischief, agitators and rebels, dangerous men. To side with the right against the wrong, with the weak against the strong, and with the oppressed against the oppressor! here lies the merit, and the one which, of all others, seems unfashionable in our day. The cause of liberty may be stabbed by the men who glory in the deeds of your fathers. But, to proceed.

Feeling themselves harshly and unjustly treated, by the home government, your fathers, like men of honesty, and men of spirit, earnestly sought redress. They petitioned and remonstrated; they did so in a decorous, respectful, and loyal manner. Their conduct was wholly unexceptionable. This, however, did not answer the purpose. They saw themselves treated with sovereign indifference, coldness and scorn. Yet they persevered. They were not the men to look back.

As the sheet anchor takes a firmer hold, when the ship is tossed by the storm, so did the cause of your fathers grow stronger as it breasted the chilling blasts of kingly displeasure. The greatest and best of British statesmen admitted its justice, and the loftiest eloquence of the British Senate came to its support. But, with that blindness which seems to be the unvarying characteristic of tyrants, since Pharaoh and his hosts were drowned in the Red Sea, the British Government persisted in the exactions complained of.

The madness of this course, we believe, is admitted now, even by England; but we fear the lesson is wholly lost on our present rulers.

Oppression makes a wise man mad. Your fathers were wise men, and if they did not go mad, they became restive under this treatment. They felt themselves the victims of grievous wrongs, wholly incurable in their colonial capacity. With brave men there is always a remedy for oppression. Just here, the idea of a total separation of the colonies from the crown was born! It was a startling idea, much more so than we, at this distance of time, regard it. The timid and the prudent (as has been intimated) of that day were, of course, shocked and alarmed by it.

Such people lived then, had lived before, and will, probably, ever have a place on this planet; and their course, in respect to any great change (no matter how great the good to be attained, or the wrong to be redressed by it), may be calculated with as much precision as can be the course of the stars. They hate all changes, but silver, gold and copper change! Of this sort of change they are always strongly in favor.

These people were called Tories in the days of your fathers; and the appellation, probably, conveyed the same idea that is meant by a more modern, though a somewhat less euphonious term, which we often find in our papers, applied to some of our old politicians.

Their opposition to the then dangerous thought was earnest and powerful; but, amid all their terror and affrighted vociferations against it, the alarming and revolutionary idea moved on, and the country with it.

On the 2nd of July, 1776, the old Continental Congress, to the dismay of the lovers of ease, and the worshipers of property, clothed that dreadful idea with all the authority of national sanction. They did so in the form of a resolution; and as we seldom hit upon resolutions, drawn up in our day, whose transparency is at all equal to this, it may refresh your minds and help my story if I read it.

“Resolved, That these united colonies are, and of right, ought to be free and Independent States; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown; and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, dissolved.”

Citizens, your fathers made good that resolution. They succeeded; and to-day you reap the fruits of their success. The freedom gained is yours; and you, there fore, may properly celebrate this anniversary. The 4th of July is the first great fact in your nation’s history-the very ringbolt in the chain of your yet undeveloped destiny.

Pride and patriotism, not less than gratitude, prompt you to celebrate and to hold it in perpetual remembrance. I have said that the Declaration of Independence is the ringbolt to the chain of your nation’s destiny; so, indeed, I regard it. The principles contained in that instrument are saving principles. Stand by those principles, be true to them on all occasions, in all places, against all foes, and at whatever cost.

From the round top of your ship of state, dark and threatening clouds may be seen. Heavy billows, like mountains in the distance, disclose to the leeward huge forms of flinty rocks! That bolt drawn, that chain broken, and all is lost. Cling to this day-cling to it, and to its principles, with the grasp of a storm-tossed mariner to a spar at midnight.

The coming into being of a nation, in any circumstances, is an interesting event. But, besides general considerations, there were peculiar circumstances which make the advent of this republic an event of special attractiveness. The whole scene, as I look back to it, was simple, dignified and sublime. The population of the country, at the time, stood at the insignificant number of three millions. The country was poor in the munitions of war. The population was weak and scattered, and the country a wilderness unsubdued. There were then no means of concert and combination, such as exist now. Neither steam nor lightning had then been reduced to order and discipline. From the Potomac to the Delaware was a journey of many days. Under these, and innumerable other disadvantages, your fathers declared for liberty and independence and triumphed.

Fellow Citizens, I am not wanting in respect for the fathers of this republic. The signers of the Declaration of Independence were brave men. They were great men, too-great enough to give frame to a great age. It does not often happen to a nation to raise, at one time, such a number of truly great men. The point from which I am compelled to view them is not, certainly, the most favorable; and yet I cannot contemplate their great deeds with less than admiration. They were statesmen, patriots and heroes, and for the good they did, and the principles they contended for, I will unite with you to honor their memory.

They loved their country better than their own private interests; and, though this is not the highest form of human excellence, all will concede that it is a rare virtue, and that when it is exhibited it ought to command respect. He who will, intelligently, lay down his life for his country is a man whom it is not in human nature to despise. Your fathers staked their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor, on the cause of their country. In their admiration of liberty, they lost sight of all other interests.

They were peace men; but they preferred revolution to peaceful submission to bondage. They were quiet men; but they did not shrink from agitating against oppression. They showed forbearance; but that they knew its limits. They believed in order; but not in the order of tyranny. With them, nothing was “settIed” that was not right. With them, justice, liberty and humanity were “final”; not slavery and oppression. You may well cherish the memory of such men. They were great in their day and generation. Their solid manhood stands out the more as we contrast it with these degenerate times.

How circumspect, exact and proportionate were all their movements! How unlike the politicians of an hour! Their statesmanship looked beyond the passing moment, and stretched away in strength into the distant future. They seized upon eternal principles, and set a glorious example in their defence. Mark them! Fully appreciating the hardships to be encountered, firmly believing in the right of their cause, honorably inviting the scrutiny of an on-looking world, reverently appealing to heaven to attest their sincerity, soundly comprehending the solemn responsibility they were about to assume, wisely measuring the terrible odds against them, your fathers, the fathers of this republic, did, most deliberately, under the inspiration of a glorious patriotism, and with a sublime faith in the great principles of justice and freedom, lay deep, the corner-stone of the national super-structure, which has risen and still rises in grandeur around you.

Of this fundamental work, this day is the anniversary. Our eyes are met with demonstrations of joyous enthusiasm. Banners and pennants wave exultingly on the breeze. The din of business, too, is hushed. Even mammon seems to have quitted his grasp on this day. The ear-piercing fife and the stirring drum unite their accents with the ascending peal of a thousand church bells. Prayers are made, hymns are sung, and sermons are preached in honor of this day; while the quick martial tramp of a great and multitudinous nation, echoed back by all the hills, valleys and mountains of a vast continent, bespeak the occasion one of thrilling and universal interest-nation’s jubilee.

Friends and citizens, I need not enter further into the causes which led to this anniversary. Many of you understand them better than I do. You could instruct me in regard to them. That is a branch of knowledge in which you feel, perhaps, a much deeper interest than your speaker. The causes which led to the separation of the colonies from the British crown have never lacked for a tongue. They have all been taught in your common schools, narrated at your firesides, un folded from your pulpits, and thundered from your legislative halls, and are as familiar to you as household words. They form the staple of your national po etry and eloquence.

I remember, also, that, as a people, Americans are remarkably familiar with all facts which make in their own favor. This is esteemed by some as a national trait-perhaps a national weakness. It is a fact, that whatever makes for the wealth or for the reputation of Americans and can be had cheap! will be found by Americans. I shall not be charged with slandering Americans if I say I think the American side of any question may be safely left in American hands.

I leave, therefore, the great deeds of your fathers to other gentlemen whose claim to have been regularly descended will be less likely to be disputed than mine!

My business, if I have any here to-day, is with the present. The accepted time with God and His cause is the ever-living now.

Trust no future, however pleasant,
Let the dead past bury its dead;
Act, act in the living present,
Heart within, and God overhead.

We have to do with the past only as we can make it useful to the present and to the future. To all inspiring motives, to noble deeds which can be gained from the past, we are welcome. But now is the time, the important time. Your fathers have lived, died, and have done their work, and have done much of it well. You live and must die, and you must do your work. You have no right to enjoy a child’s share in the labor of your fathers, unless your children are to be blest by your labors. You have no right to wear out and waste the hard-earned fame of your fathers to cover your indolence. Sydney Smith tells us that men seldom eulogize the wisdom and virtues of their fathers, but to excuse some folly or wickedness of their own. This truth is not a doubtful one. There are illustrations of it near and remote, ancient and modern. It was fashionable, hundreds of years ago, for the children of Jacob to boast, we have “Abraham to our father,” when they had long lost Abraham’s faith and spirit. That people contented themselves under the shadow of Abraham’s great name, while they repudiated the deeds which made his name great. Need I remind you that a similar thing is being done all over this country to-day? Need I tell you that the Jews are not the only people who built the tombs of the prophets, and garnished the sepulchers of the righteous? Washington could not die till he had broken the chains of his slaves. Yet his monument is built up by the price of human blood, and the traders in the bodies and souls of men shout-“We have Washington to our father.”-Alas! that it should be so; yet it is.

The evil, that men do, lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones.

Fellow-citizens, pardon me, allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?

Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an affirmative answer could be truthfully returned to these questions! Then would my task be light, and my burden easy and delightful. For who is there so cold, that a nation’s sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the claims of gratitude, that would not thankfully acknowledge such priceless benefits? Who so stolid and selfish, that would not give his voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation’s jubilee, when the chains of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the “lame man leap as an hart.”

But such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of this glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common.-The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fa thers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day? If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it is dangerous to copy the example of a nation whose crimes, towering up to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irrevocable ruin! I can to-day take up the plaintive lament of a peeled and woe-smitten people!

“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea! we wept when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there, they that carried us away captive, required of us a song; and they who wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.”

Fellow-citizens, above your national, tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions! whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday, are, to-day, rendered more intolerable by the jubilee shouts that reach them. If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, “may my right hand forget her cunning, and may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!” To forget them, to pass lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme, would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens, is American slavery. I shall see this day and its popular characteristics from the slave’s point of view. Standing there identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this 4th of July! Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and revolting. America is false to the past, false to the present, and solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of humanity which is outraged, in the name of liberty which is fettered, in the name of the constitution and the Bible which are disregarded and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to denounce, with all the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate slavery-the great sin and shame of America! “I will not equivocate; I will not excuse”; I will use the severest language I can command; and yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slaveholder, shall not confess to be right and just.

But I fancy I hear some one of my audience say, “It is just in this circumstance that you and your brother abolitionists fail to make a favorable impression on the public mind. Would you argue more, and denounce less; would you persuade more, and rebuke less; your cause would be much more likely to succeed.” But, I submit, where all is plain there is nothing to be argued. What point in the anti slavery creed would you have me argue? On what branch of the subject do the people of this country need light? Must I undertake to prove that the slave is a man? That point is conceded already. Nobody doubts it. The slaveholders themselves acknowledge it in the enactment of laws for their government. They ac knowledge it when they punish disobedience on the part of the slave. There are seventy-two crimes in the State of Virginia which, if committed by a black man (no matter how ignorant he be), subject him to the punishment of death; while only two of the same crimes will subject a white man to the like punishment. What is this but the acknowledgment that the slave is a moral, intellectual, and responsible being? The manhood of the slave is conceded. It is admitted in the fact that Southern statute books are covered with enactments forbidding, under severe fines and penalties, the teaching of the slave to read or to write. When you can point to any such laws in reference to the beasts of the field, then I may con sent to argue the manhood of the slave. When the dogs in your streets, when the fowls of the air, when the cattle on your hills, when the fish of the sea, and the reptiles that crawl, shall be unable to distinguish the slave from a brute, then will I argue with you that the slave is a man!

For the present, it is enough to affirm the equal manhood of the Negro race. Is it not astonishing that, while we are ploughing, planting, and reaping, using all kinds of mechanical tools, erecting houses, constructing bridges, building ships, working in metals of brass, iron, copper, silver and gold; that, while we are reading, writing and ciphering, acting as clerks, merchants and secretaries, having among us lawyers, doctors, ministers, poets, authors, editors, orators and teachers; that, while we are engaged in all manner of enterprises common to other men, digging gold in California, capturing the whale in the Pacific, feeding sheep and cattle on the hill-side, living, moving, acting, thinking, planning, living in families as husbands, wives and children, and, above all, confessing and worshipping the Christian’s God, and looking hopefully for life and immortality beyond the grave, we are called upon to prove that we are men!

Would you have me argue that man is entitled to liberty? that he is the rightful owner of his own body? You have already declared it. Must I argue the wrongfulness of slavery? Is that a question for Republicans? Is it to be settled by the rules of logic and argumentation, as a matter beset with great difficulty, involving a doubtful application of the principle of justice, hard to be understood? How should I look to-day, in the presence of Americans, dividing, and subdividing a discourse, to show that men have a natural right to freedom? speaking of it relatively and positively, negatively and affirmatively. To do so, would be to make myself ridiculous, and to offer an insult to your understanding.-There is not a man beneath the canopy of heaven that does not know that slavery is wrong for him.

What, am I to argue that it is wrong to make men brutes, to rob them of their liberty, to work them without wages, to keep them ignorant of their relations to their fellow men, to beat them with sticks, to flay their flesh with the lash, to load their limbs with irons, to hunt them with dogs, to sell them at auction, to sunder their families, to knock out their teeth, to burn their flesh, to starve them into obedience and submission to their masters? Must I argue that a system thus marked with blood, and stained with pollution, is wrong? No! I will not. I have better employment for my time and strength than such arguments would imply.

What, then, remains to be argued? Is it that slavery is not divine; that God did not establish it; that our doctors of divinity are mistaken? There is blasphemy in the thought. That which is inhuman, cannot be divine! Who can reason on such a proposition? They that can, may; I cannot. The time for such argument is passed.

At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed. O! had I the ability, and could reach the nation’s ear, I would, to-day, pour out a fiery stream of biting ridicule, blasting reproach, withering sarcasm, and stern rebuke. For it is not light that is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. The feeling of the nation must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed; and its crimes against God and man must be proclaimed and denounced.

What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy-a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.

Go where you may, search where you will, roam through all the monarchies and despotisms of the Old World, travel through South America, search out every abuse, and when you have found the last, lay your facts by the side of the everyday practices of this nation, and you will say with me, that, for revolting barbarity and shameless hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival.

Take the American slave-trade, which we are told by the papers, is especially prosperous just now. Ex-Senator Benton tells us that the price of men was never higher than now. He mentions the fact to show that slavery is in no danger. This trade is one of the peculiarities of American institutions. It is carried on in all the large towns and cities in one-half of this confederacy; and millions are pocketed every year by dealers in this horrid traffic. In several states this trade is a chief source of wealth. It is called (in contradistinction to the foreign slave-trade) “the internal slave-trade.” It is, probably, called so, too, in order to divert from it the horror with which the foreign slave-trade is contemplated. That trade has long since been denounced by this government as piracy. It has been denounced with burning words from the high places of the nation as an execrable traffic. To arrest it, to put an end to it, this nation keeps a squadron, at immense cost, on the coast of Africa. Everywhere, in this country, it is safe to speak of this foreign slave-trade as a most inhuman traffic, opposed alike to the Jaws of God and of man. The duty to extirpate and destroy it, is admitted even by our doctors of divinity. In order to put an end to it, some of these last have consented that their colored brethren (nominally free) should leave this country, and establish them selves on the western coast of Africa! It is, however, a notable fact that, while so much execration is poured out by Americans upon all those engaged in the foreign slave-trade, the men engaged in the slave-trade between the states pass with out condemnation, and their business is deemed honorable.

Behold the practical operation of this internal slave-trade, the American slave-trade, sustained by American politics and American religion. Here you will see men and women reared like swine for the market. You know what is a swine-drover? I will show you a man-drover. They inhabit all our Southern States. They perambulate the country, and crowd the highways of the nation, with droves of human stock. You will see one of these human flesh jobbers, armed with pistol, whip, and bowie-knife, driving a company of a hundred men, women, and children, from the Potomac to the slave market at New Orleans. These wretched people are to be sold singly, or in lots, to suit purchasers. They are food for the cotton-field and the deadly sugar-mill. Mark the sad procession, as it moves wearily along, and the inhuman wretch who drives them. Hear his savage yells and his blood-curdling oaths, as he hurries on his affrighted captives! There, see the old man with locks thinned and gray. Cast one glance, if you please, upon that young mother, whose shoulders are bare to the scorching sun, her briny tears falling on the brow of the babe in her arms. See, too, that girl of thirteen, weeping, yes! weeping, as she thinks of the mother from whom she has been torn! The drove moves tardily. Heat and sorrow have nearly consumed their strength; suddenly you hear a quick snap, like the discharge of a rifle; the fetters clank, and the chain rattles simultaneously; your ears are saluted with a scream, that seems to have torn its way to the centre of your soul The crack you heard was the sound of the slave-whip; the scream you heard was from the woman you saw with the babe. Her speed had faltered under the weight of her child and her chains! that gash on her shoulder tells her to move on. Follow this drove to New Orleans. Attend the auction; see men examined like horses; see the forms of women rudely and brutally exposed to the shock ing gaze of American slave-buyers. See this drove sold and separated forever; and never forget the deep, sad sobs that arose from that scattered multitude. Tell me, citizens, where, under the sun, you can witness a spectacle more fiendish and shocking. Yet this is but a glance at the American slave-trade, as it exists, at this moment, in the ruling part of the United States.

I was born amid such sights and scenes. To me the American slave-trade is a terrible reality. When a child, my soul was often pierced with a sense of its horrors. I lived on Philpot Street, Fell’s Point, Baltimore, and have watched from the wharves the slave ships in the Basin, anchored from the shore, with their cargoes of human flesh, waiting for favorable winds to waft them down the Chesapeake. There was, at that time, a grand slave mart kept at the head of Pratt Street, by Austin Woldfolk. His agents were sent into every town and county in Maryland, announcing their arrival, through the papers, and on flaming “hand-bills,” headed cash for Negroes. These men were generally well dressed men, and very captivating in their manners; ever ready to drink, to treat, and to gamble. The fate of many a slave has depended upon the turn of a single card; and many a child has been snatched from the arms of its mother by bargains arranged in a state of brutal drunkenness.

The flesh-mongers gather up their victims by dozens, and drive them, chained, to the general depot at Baltimore. When a sufficient number has been collected here, a ship is chartered for the purpose of conveying the forlorn crew to Mobile, or to New Orleans. From the slave prison to the ship, they are usually driven in the darkness of night; for since the antislavery agitation, a certain caution is observed.

In the deep, still darkness of midnight, I have been often aroused by the dead, heavy footsteps, and the piteous cries of the chained gangs that passed our door. The anguish of my boyish heart was intense; and I was often consoled, when speaking to my mistress in the morning, to hear her say that the custom was very wicked; that she hated to hear the rattle of the chains and the heart-rending cries. I was glad to find one who sympathized with me in my horror.

Fellow-citizens, this murderous traffic is, to-day, in active operation in this boasted republic. In the solitude of my spirit I see clouds of dust raised on the highways of the South; I see the bleeding footsteps; I hear the doleful wail of fettered humanity on the way to the slave-markets, where the victims are to be sold like horses, sheep, and swine, knocked off to the highest bidder. There I see the tenderest ties ruthlessly broken, to gratify the lust, caprice and rapacity of the buyers and sellers of men. My soul sickens at the sight.

Is this the land your Fathers loved,
The freedom which they toiled to win?
Is this the earth whereon they moved?
Are these the graves they slumber in?

But a still more inhuman, disgraceful, and scandalous state of things remains to be presented. By an act of the American Congress, not yet two years old, slavery has been nationalized in its most horrible and revolting form. By that act, Mason and Dixon’s line has been obliterated; New York has become as Virginia; and the power to hold, hunt, and sell men, women and children, as slaves, remains no longer a mere state institution, but is now an institution of the whole United States. The power is co-extensive with the star-spangled banner, and American Christianity. Where these go, may also go the merciless slave-hunter. Where these are, man is not sacred. He is a bird for the sportsman’s gun. By that most foul and fiendish of all human decrees, the liberty and person of every man are put in peril. Your broad republican domain is hunting ground for men. Not for thieves and robbers, enemies of society, merely, but for men guilty of no crime. Your law-makers have commanded all good citizens to engage in this hellish sport. Your President, your Secretary of State, your lords, nobles, and ecclesiastics enforce, as a duty you owe to your free and glorious country, and to your God, that you do this accursed thing. Not fewer than forty Americans have, within the past two years, been hunted down and, without a moment’s warning, hurried away in chains, and consigned to slavery and excruciating torture. Some of these have had wives and children, dependent on them for bread; but of this, no account was made. The right of the hunter to his prey stands superior to the right of marriage, and to all rights in this republic, the rights of God included! For black men there is neither law nor justice, humanity nor religion. The Fugitive Slave Law makes mercy to them a crime; and bribes the judge who tries them. An American judge gets ten dollars for every victim he consigns to slavery, and five, when he fails to do so. The oath of any two villains is sufficient, under this hell-black enactment, to send the most pious and exemplary black man into the remorseless jaws of slavery! His own testimony is nothing. He can bring no witnesses for himself. The minister of American justice is bound by the law to hear but one side; and that side is the side of the oppressor. Let this damning fact be perpetually told. Let it be thundered around the world that in tyrant-killing, king-hating, people-loving, democratic, Christian America the seats of justice are filled with judges who hold their offices under an open and palpable bribe, and are bound, in deciding the case of a man’s liberty, to hear only his accusers!

In glaring violation of justice, in shameless disregard of the forms of administering law, in cunning arrangement to entrap the defenceless, and in diabolical intent this Fugitive Slave Law stands alone in the annals of tyrannical legislation. I doubt if there be another nation on the globe having the brass and the baseness to put such a law on the statute-book. If any man in this assembly thinks differently from me in this matter, and feels able to disprove my statements, I will gladly confront him at any suitable time and place he may select.

I take this law to be one of the grossest infringements of Christian Liberty, and, if the churches and ministers of our country were nor stupidly blind, or most wickedly indifferent, they, too, would so regard it.

At the very moment that they are thanking God for the enjoyment of civil and religious liberty, and for the right to worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences, they are utterly silent in respect to a law which robs religion of its chief significance and makes it utterly worthless to a world lying in wickedness. Did this law concern the “mint, anise, and cummin”-abridge the right to sing psalms, to partake of the sacrament, or to engage in any of the ceremonies of religion, it would be smitten by the thunder of a thousand pulpits. A general shout would go up from the church demanding repeal, repeal, instant repeal!-And it would go hard with that politician who presumed to so licit the votes of the people without inscribing this motto on his banner. Further, if this demand were not complied with, another Scotland would be added to the history of religious liberty, and the stern old covenanters would be thrown into the shade. A John Knox would be seen at every church door and heard from every pulpit, and Fillmore would have no more quarter than was shown by Knox to the beautiful, but treacherous, Queen Mary of Scotland. The fact that the church of our country (with fractional exceptions) does not esteem “the Fugitive Slave Law” as a declaration of war against religious liberty, im plies that that church regards religion simply as a form of worship, an empty ceremony, and not a vital principle, requiring active benevolence, justice, love, and good will towards man. It esteems sacrifice above mercy; psalm-singing above right doing; solemn meetings above practical righteousness. A worship that can be conducted by persons who refuse to give shelter to the houseless, to give bread to the hungry, clothing to the naked, and who enjoin obedience to a law forbidding these acts of mercy is a curse, not a blessing to mankind. The Bible addresses all such persons as “scribes, pharisees, hypocrites, who pay tithe ofÝ mint, anise, and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith.”

But the church of this country is not only indifferent to the wrongs of the slave, it actually takes sides with the oppressors. It has made itself the bulwark of American slavery, and the shield of American slave-hunters. Many of its most eloquent Divines, who stand as the very lights of the church, have shamelessly given the sanction of religion and the Bible to the whole slave system. They have taught that man may, properly, be a slave; that the relation of master and slave is ordained of God; that to send back an escaped bondman to his master is clearly the duty of all the followers of the Lord Jesus Christ; and this horrible blasphemy is palmed off upon the world for Christianity.

For my part, I would say, welcome infidelity! welcome atheism! welcome anything! in preference to the gospel, as preached by those Divines! They convert the very name of religion into an engine of tyranny and barbarous cruelty, and serve to confirm more infidels, in this age, than all the infidel writings of Thomas Paine, Voltaire, and Bolingbroke put together have done! These ministers make religion a cold and flinty-hearted thing, having neither principles of right action nor bowels of compassion. They strip the love of God of its beauty and leave the throne of religion a huge, horrible, repulsive form. It is a religion for oppressors, tyrants, man-stealers, and thugs. It is not that “pure and undefiled religion” which is from above, and which is “first pure, then peaceable, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and with out hypocrisy.” But a religion which favors the rich against the poor; which exalts the proud above the humble; which divides mankind into two classes, tyrants and slaves; which says to the man in chains, stay there; and to the oppressor, oppress on; it is a religion which may be professed and enjoyed by all the robbers and enslavers of mankind; it makes God a respecter of persons, denies his fatherhood of the race, and tramples in the dust the great truth of the brotherhood of man. All this we affirm to be true of the popular church, and the popular worship of our land and nation-a religion, a church, and a worship which, on the authority of inspired wisdom, we pronounce to be an abomination in the sight of God. In the language of Isaiah, the American church might be well addressed, “Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me: the new moons and Sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting. Your new moons, and your appointed feasts my soul hateth. They are a trouble to me; I am weary to bear them; and when ye spread forth your hands I will hide mine eyes from you. Yea’ when ye make many prayers, I will not hear. Your hands are full of blood; cease to do evil, learn to do well; seek judgment; relieve the oppressed; judge for the fatherless; plead for the widow.”

The American church is guilty, when viewed in connection with what it is doing to uphold slavery; but it is superlatively guilty when viewed in its connection with its ability to abolish slavery.

The sin of which it is guilty is one of omission as well as of commission. Albert Barnes but uttered what the common sense of every man at all observant of the actual state of the case will receive as truth, when he declared that “There is no power out of the church that could sustain slavery an hour, if it were not sustained in it.”

Let the religious press, the pulpit, the Sunday School, the conference meeting, the great ecclesiastical, missionary, Bible and tract associations of the land array their immense powers against slavery, and slave-holding; and the whole system of crime and blood would be scattered to the winds, and that they do not do this involves them in the most awful responsibility of which the mind can conceive.

In prosecuting the anti-slavery enterprise, we have been asked to spare the church, to spare the ministry; but how, we ask, could such a thing be done? We are met on the threshold of our efforts for the redemption of the slave, by the church and ministry of the country, in battle arrayed against us; and we are compelled to fight or flee. From what quarter, I beg to know, has proceeded a fire so deadly upon our ranks, during the last two years, as from the Northern pulpit? As the champions of oppressors, the chosen men of American theology have appeared-men honored for their so-called piety, and their real learning. The Lords of Buffalo, the Springs of New York, the Lathrops of Auburn, the Coxes and Spencers of Brooklyn, the Gannets and Sharps of Boston, the Deweys of Washington, and other great religious lights of the land have, in utter denial of the authority of Him by whom they professed to be called to the ministry, deliberately taught us, against the example of the Hebrews, and against the remonstrance of the Apostles, that we ought to obey man’s law before the law of God.2

My spirit wearies of such blasphemy; and how such men can be supported, as the “standing types and representatives of Jesus Christ,” is a mystery which I leave others to penetrate. In speaking of the American church, however, let it be distinctly understood that I mean the great mass of the religious organizations of our land. There are exceptions, and I thank God that there are. Noble men may be found, scattered all over these Northern States, of whom Henry Ward Beecher, of Brooklyn; Samuel J. May, of Syracuse; and my esteemed friend (Rev. R. R. Raymond) on the platform, are shining examples; and let me say further, that, upon these men lies the duty to inspire our ranks with high religious faith and zeal, and to cheer us on in the great mission of the slave’s redemption from his chains.

One is struck with the difference between the attitude of the American church towards the anti-slavery movement, and that occupied by the churches in Eng land towards a similar movement in that country. There, the church, true to its mission of ameliorating, elevating and improving the condition of mankind, came forward promptly, bound up the wounds of the West Indian slave, and re stored him to his liberty. There, the question of emancipation was a high religious question. It was demanded in the name of humanity, and according to the law of the living God. The Sharps, the Clarksons, the Wilberforces, the Buxtons, the Burchells, and the Knibbs were alike famous for their piety and for their philanthropy. The anti-slavery movement there was not an anti-church movement, for the reason that the church took its full share in prosecuting that movement: and the anti-slavery movement in this country will cease to be an anti-church movement, when the church of this country shall assume a favorable instead of a hostile position towards that movement.

Americans! your republican politics, not less than your republican religion, are flagrantly inconsistent. You boast of your love of liberty, your superior civilization, and your pure Christianity, while the whole political power of the nation (as embodied in the two great political parties) is solemnly pledged to support and perpetuate the enslavement of three millions of your countrymen. You hurl your anathemas at the crowned headed tyrants of Russia and Austria and pride yourselves on your Democratic institutions, while you yourselves consent to be the mere tools and body-guards of the tyrants of Virginia and Carolina. You invite to your shores fugitives of oppression from abroad, honor them with banquets, greet them with ovations, cheer them, toast them, salute them, protect them, and pour out your money to them like water; but the fugitives from oppression in your own land you advertise, hunt, arrest, shoot, and kill. You glory in your refinement and your universal education; yet you maintain a system as barbarous and dreadful as ever stained the character of a nation-a system begun in avarice, supported in pride, and perpetuated in cruelty. You shed tears over fallen Hungary, and make the sad story of her wrongs the theme of your poets, statesmen, and orators, till your gallant sons are ready to fly to arms to vindicate her cause against the oppressor; but, in regard to the ten thousand wrongs of the American slave, you would enforce the strictest silence, and would hail him as an enemy of the nation who dares to make those wrongs the subject of public discourse! You are all on fire at the mention of liberty for France or for Ireland; but are as cold as an iceberg at the thought of liberty for the enslaved of America. You discourse eloquently on the dignity of labor; yet, you sustain a system which, in its very essence, casts a stigma upon labor. You can bare your bosom to the storm of British artillery to throw off a three-penny tax on tea; and yet wring the last hard earned farthing from the grasp of the black laborers of your country. You profess to believe “that, of one blood, God made all nations of men to dwell on the face of all the earth,” and hath commanded all men, everywhere, to love one another; yet you notoriously hate (and glory in your hatred) all men whose skins are not colored like your own. You declare before the world, and are understood by the world to declare that you “hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal; and are endowed by their Creator with certain in alienable rights; and that among these are, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; and yet, you hold securely, in a bondage which, according to your own Thomas Jefferson, “is worse than ages of that which your fathers rose in rebellion to oppose,” a seventh part of the inhabitants of your country.

Fellow-citizens, I will not enlarge further on your national inconsistencies. The existence of slavery in this country brands your republicanism as a sham, your humanity as a base pretense, and your Christianity as a lie. It destroys your moral power abroad: it corrupts your politicians at home. It saps the foundation of religion; it makes your name a hissing and a bye-word to a mocking earth. It is the antagonistic force in your government, the only thing that seriously disturbs and endangers your Union. it fetters your progress; it is the enemy of improvement; the deadly foe of education; it fosters pride; it breeds insolence; it promotes vice; it shelters crime; it is a curse to the earth that supports it; and yet you cling to it as if it were the sheet anchor of all your hopes. Oh! be warned! be warned! a horrible reptile is coiled up in your nation’s bosom; the venomous creature is nursing at the tender breast of your youthful republic; for the love of God, tear away, and fling from you the hideous monster, and let the weight of twenty millions crush and destroy it forever!

But it is answered in reply to all this, that precisely what I have now denounced is, in fact, guaranteed and sanctioned by the Constitution of the United States; that, the right to hold, and to hunt slaves is a part of that Constitution framed by the illustrious Fathers of this Republic.

Then, I dare to affirm, notwithstanding all I have said before, your fathers stooped, basely stooped

To palter with us in a double sense:
And keep the word of promise to the ear,
But break it to the heart.

And instead of being the honest men I have before declared them to be, they were the veriest impostors that ever practised on mankind. This is the inevitable conclusion, and from it there is no escape; but I differ from those who charge this baseness on the framers of the Constitution of the United States. It is a slander upon their memory, at least, so I believe. There is not time now to argue the constitutional question at length; nor have I the ability to discuss it as it ought to be discussed. The subject has been handled with masterly power by Lysander Spooner, Esq. by William Goodell, by Samuel E. Sewall, Esq., and last, though not least, by Gerrit Smith, Esq. These gentlemen have, as I think, fully and clearly vindicated the Constitution from any design to support slavery for an hour.

Fellow-citizens! there is no matter in respect to which the people of the North have allowed themselves to be so ruinously imposed upon as that of the pro-slavery character of the Constitution. In that instrument I hold there is neither warrant, license, nor sanction of the hateful thing; but interpreted, as it ought to be interpreted, the Constitution is a glorious liberty document. Read its preamble, consider its purposes. Is slavery among them? Is it at the gate way? or is it in the temple? it is neither. While I do not intend to argue this question on the present occasion, let me ask, if it be not somewhat singular that, if the Constitution were intended to be, by its framers and adopters, a slaveholding instrument, why neither slavery, slaveholding, nor slave can any where be found in it. What would be thought of an instrument, drawn up, legally drawn up, for the purpose of entitling the city of Rochester to a tract of land, in which no mention of land was made? Now, there are certain rules of interpretation for the proper understanding of all legal instruments. These rules are well established. They are plain, commonsense rules, such as you and I, and all of us, can understand and apply, without having passed years in the study of law. I scout the idea that the question of the constitutionality, or unconstitutionality of slavery, is not a question for the people. I hold that every American citizen has a right to form an opinion of the constitution, and to propagate that opinion, and to use all honorable means to make his opinion the prevailing one. Without this right, the liberty of an American citizen would be as insecure as that of a Frenchman. Ex-Vice-President Dallas tells us that the constitution is an object to which no American mind can be too attentive, and no American heart too devoted. He further says, the Constitution, in its words, is plain and intelligible, and is meant for the home-bred, unsophisticated understandings of our fellow-citizens. Senator Berrien tells us that the Constitution is the fundamental law, that which controls all others. The charter of our liberties, which every citizen has a personal interest in understanding thoroughly. The testimony of Senator Breese, Lewis Cass, and many others that might be named, who are everywhere esteemed as sound lawyers, so regard the constitution. I take it, therefore, that it is not presumption in a private citizen to form an opinion of that instrument.

Now, take the Constitution according to its plain reading, and I defy the presentation of a single pro-slavery clause in it. On the other hand, it will be found to contain principles and purposes, entirely hostile to the existence of slavery.

I have detained my audience entirely too long already. At some future period I will gladly avail myself of an opportunity to give this subject a full and fair discussion.

Allow me to say, in conclusion, notwithstanding the dark picture I have this day presented, of the state of the nation, I do not despair of this country. There are forces in operation which must inevitably work the downfall of slavery.

“The arm of the Lord is not shortened,” and the doom of slavery is certain. I, therefore, leave off where I began, with hope. While drawing encouragement from “the Declaration of Independence,” the great principles it contains, and the genius of American Institutions, my spirit is also cheered by the obvious tendencies of the age. Nations do not now stand in the same relation to each other that they did ages ago. No nation can now shut itself up from the surrounding world and trot round in the same old path of its fathers without interference. The time was when such could be done. Long established customs of hurtful character could formerly fence themselves in, and do their evil work with social impunity. Knowledge was then confined and enjoyed by the privileged few, and the multitude walked on in mental darkness. But a change has now come over the affairs of mankind. Walled cities and empires have become unfashionable. The arm of commerce has borne away the gates of the strong city. Intelligence is penetrating the darkest corners of the globe. It makes its pathway over and under the sea, as well as on the earth. Wind, steam, and lightning are its chartered agents. Oceans no longer divide, but link nations together. From Boston to London is now a holiday excursion. Space is comparatively annihilated.-Thoughts expressed on one side of the Atlantic are distinctly heard on the other.

The far off and almost fabulous Pacific rolls in grandeur at our feet. The Celestial Empire, the mystery of ages, is being solved. The fiat of the Almighty, “Let there be Light,” has not yet spent its force. No abuse, no outrage whether in taste, sport or avarice, can now hide itself from the all-pervading light. The iron shoe, and crippled foot of China must be seen in contrast with nature. Africa must rise and put on her yet unwoven garment. “Ethiopia shall stretch out her hand unto God.” In the fervent aspirations of William Lloyd Garrison, I say, and let every heart join in saying it:

God speed the year of jubilee
The wide world o’er!
When from their galling chains set free,
Th’ oppress’d shall vilely bend the knee,

And wear the yoke of tyranny
Like brutes no more.
That year will come, and freedom’s reign.
To man his plundered rights again
Restore.

God speed the day when human blood
Shall cease to flow!
In every clime be understood,
The claims of human brotherhood,
And each return for evil, good,
Not blow for blow;

That day will come all feuds to end,
And change into a faithful friend
Each foe. 

A Very Brief Reflection on America and its Obsession with Homicide

Apparently, in the USA, you can be murdered and have the case casually thrown out as if it were nothing. Actually, this is a Great American Tradition. Leaving aside the kind of casual, joyful killings of Jews that used to take place in the Ukraine, Romania and Croatia (among other places) under Hitler’s regime, or in Nanjing under Japanese fascism, or in Pinochet’s Chile, or under the Gang of Four in China, these casual killings of niggers, spics, gooks and even dagos are simply a part of America’s “culture”–if you can call it a “culture”–and have to be understood within this context.

We all know the United States (like any other “great” empire) was forged in violence. The United States, perhaps more so than any other nation in the developed world, perfectly exemplifies Fanon’s dictum about colonialism being “violence in its natural state.” I think I have written about this before in a previous posting. The sad truth about all of this disgusting violence is that–if history proves us right–it will not let up unless an even more violent reactive force holds it in check. This statement is merely an observation of the movement of history. One can safely predict what will eventually happen in the United States when the recipients of American state and social violence (on either side of the political divide) simply feel that they have enough.

Naturally the REAL perpetrators of American violence are at the top of the American social/political totem pole, not on the bottom. Bill Cosby does not run the United States of America, any more than O.J. Simpson does.Snoop Dogg doesn’t run the United States of America, and neither does 50 Cent or Kendrick Lamar or any other rapper, basketball player, footballer, corrupt black mayor or politician or writer or otherwise. But you can’t tell this to the likes of demagogic maniacs such as Baked Alaska, Gavin MacInness and their ilk.

Bill Cosby Case: Scottsboro Lite?

Taken verbatim from attorney Richard B. Herman, on CNN (excerpted, June 17, 2017):

Q (CNN) : So, Richard, uhm–would he stand a better chance to retry?

A (Herman): No, not necessarily, Fred. He (Kevin Steele, District Attorney) never looked at the case like a true district attorney. This was a politically motivated prosecution. The prior district attorney made the determination (that) they could not get the conviction, and therefore they did not allow Ms. Constand to be the witness in criminal charges against Mr. Cosby although that DA encouraged her to bring a civil litigation where the burden of proof is less. This district attorney (Steele) ran on a platform of indicting and prosecuting Mr. Cosby…He won, maybe on that provision alone–

CNN: Yeah.

Herman: And so he brings this litigation on facts and circumstances that took place fourteen years ago, where people have to testify to what happened then and after. There’s a lot of contradiction in (the) testimony and statements that were given, and the problem with the retrial here, Fred, is the problem they had during this trial. Ms. Constand had a relationship with Mr. Cosby. She had some 72 phone calls with him before the event took place–

CNN: That’s right.

Herman: Three meetings in his house, before the event took place.

CNN: That’s right.

Herman: Then subsequent to the alleged attack, Fred, six months later, she reached out to get tickets for her parents to see his show. That’s not consistent with someone who was sexually assaulted. No forensic evidence to prove Quaaludes, nothing at all.* This is a very difficult case to ever obtain a 12-0 conviction. (It’s) not gonna happen next time…

___________________________________________________________________________________

*So in other words, this so-called “trial” was just another one of those good old fashioned, all-American, O.J. style legal lynchings that have been so popular throughout American history. In fact (as it turns out) the goddamned DA himself, Mr. Steele, ran his entire political campaign on putting a high profile black man behind bars, which to me sounds like the kind of shit that white Southern demagogues (like Cotton Ed Smith and his ilk)

andrea-constand-30d030e76270d402
Definitely not a “catch”–not with that jawline!

used to do about a century ago. This trial is simply the 21st Century version of the notorious Scottsboro Boys case. Professor Black Truth, a vlogger on YouTube, put it very succinctly when he said that Cosby could have been any high profile black man–the whole idea was to disgrace black men across the board by picking one of the most powerful. “It’s the symbolism of it,” he said. “After all, you go after some Pookie or Ray Ray nobody’s going to care. But if you go after a black man who’s got some name recognition and notoriety, that’s the kind of racial coding white people understand and go for. They like that, they know what that means.”

What that means, of course, is that if a black man goes too far in American society–if he dare imagine himself to be the equal to a white man in all respects, or just any respect–white (colonial) society will attempt to slap him back down in “his place,” which could be anything from a job in a dishroom to a prison cell to a six foot hole in the ground. (Or, he could shine shoes at your local Greyhound bus station, grinning and giggling the whole time. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?) Cosby’s own elitism and snobbery notwithstanding, many whites loathed the fact that he was wealthy and powerful (nothing new there: many, if not most, of the lynchings that took place in America in the Bad Old Days were motivated out of economic jealousy, and not only of Blacks), and above all, the thought that Cosby actually had the money to buy NBC must have infuriated many white Americans beyond reason, though they tried not to show it.

Speaking of the Scottsboro Boys case (they are pictured above)–Mychal Denzel Smith, a NYT bestselling author and sometime writer for The Guardian (UK), said in a tweet that we should not make the Cosby case out to be another Scottsboro. Maybe such a comparison is jumping the gun, but it sure as hell smells like Scottsboro all over again: Scottsboro lite. Cosby himself has said as much without making that exact reference, which, given Cosby’s myopia on the true nature of American race prejudice, seems almost funny. (Three years earlier Smith had this to say concerning Cosby’s refusal to see yet another race-tinged court case–that of George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin–for what it really was: “What Cosby, and others who would have us focus less on Martin’s race and more on other factors contributing to his death, would prefer is that we operate as a color-blind society. But if we choose not to see race, then it is impossible to see actual racism – and there is plenty of it to go around.”)

Right-winger Newt Gingrich once talked “on code” to his white settler constituency with his feigned outrage at then-President Barack Obama for saying that if had a son, “he would look just like Trayvon.” (Of course, Moldy-fig Newton.) Gingrich and his ilk don’t mean what they say when they insist–in Newt’s words–“we should talk about being Americans.” Newt’s own track record, of course, suggests otherwise. In reality Gingrich and Company refuse to tell the difference between Cosby, Obama and Trayvon Martin, not to mention me, Mychal Smith, Professor Black Truth, Tupac, Pookie, Ray Ray and Rastus the Cream of Wheat man. All “coons” look alike to redneck settlers and those cuddly, soft-spoken, well-meaning, paternalistic center-left petty bourgies who love to call themselves our “friends.” We won’t get into the fact that all too often, less blacks can be found living in neighborhoods where the latter (left) congregate than among the former (hard right): even fucking Jim Goad can point that out. Besides, that is not the point at all.

There is an absurd irony of Dr. Cosby (we already forgot he was a doctor) being caught in a race-tinged scandal organized by a troupe of America’s ugliest white women (with one

bill-cosby-completely-blind-confined-to-home-diaryofahollywoodstreetking-com_795297
Cosby is now “completely blind”

of America’s most crooked high-profile DAs). Cosby is now legally blind. There is a sad comeuppance (once again) in this fact. Cosby had long blinded himself–by public admission, anyway–as to just how virulent, deep-rooted, and tightly structured American racism really is–the kind of racism that historically reduced able-bodied black men to the point where they felt they needed to steal–perhaps to eat, perhaps just for kicks: either way, it really doesn’t matter, since it all adds up to the same thing. That a man would lose his life over such a thing–that U.S. law enforcement would see more value in a goddamned 99-cent slice of half-stale pound cake than an actual human being speaks volumes about the absolute inhumanity of American society. It should come as no surprise to anyone who has seen the US military’s actions in Iraq, Afghanistan, Somalia and countless other places. We do not need to go over US history with even a fine comb to turn up still more examples of the sheer callousness of these people (meaning Americans, of course, and certainly not just white Americans). But Cosby’s pound-cake speech treated the matter as if it were just a pathetic joke. “What,” said Cosby, “was he doing with a piece of pound cake in his hand?” Well, Cosby, why take a man’s life over a shitty piece of cake? Better yet–why is Kevin Steele trying to jug you based on a pack of convoluted lies?

 

Bill Maher, Bill Cosby, Quaaludes and Other Not-so-Nice Things

This is strictly off-the-cuff, a few ramblings on topics that are raging on social media while in the meantime, the Congo is a dysfunctional ruin, India is turning Nazi, Yemenis starve and Syrians get blown to bits, Gaza is still a nasty ruin, slum dwellers in Rio still get their heads caved in by Brazilian killer cops (especially if they are pretos), Russian fascists are infesting the globe and even reaching their hoary tentacles down in Cancun, hipster fascists, redneck scum and negro/cholo thugs rampage throughout America unchecked (and fools like Jim Goad are still publishing books. Worse, many people still believe that Jim Goad is still relevant.)

Number one: I didn’t think much of the Bill Maher “house nigga” flap because I didn’t even watch it when it happened. And when I did see it, I simply shrugged. To me it was just some typically tasteless, cute, white-boy shit. Having grown up around white boys, I am not going to be surprised by the things they say when they think they are being witty, nor am I going to excuse whatever it is they say. I don’t hate them, but I know them; where I grew up in America, I had to know them and their intentions. It did not surprise me that Mr. Maher put his foot in his mouth (and possibly on purpose) one more time. So, what?*

People have forgotten the seventies or, God forbid, the eighties. The levels of racism on TV during that time were nothing short of toxic. They have forgotten scumbags like the late Morton Downey, Jr., among others. Channel Five and Channel Twenty were still broadcasting those disgusting racist cartoons from the 30s/50s (among other things) yet unlike today, nobody said a fucking word about it in any newspaper or magazine column. Not one fucking word. There was a particularly revolting cartoon (I think it was the Isle of Pingo Pongo) which showed a stereotyped “coon” with a Victrola in his enormous white lips, and I remember actually throwing shit at the TV screen in disgust. But other than my family, nobody cared–which is why I find the hysterical reaction to Bill Maher’s cutesy-poo wise crack so disingenuous.

I have yet to watch a complete episode of “Politically Incorrect” by Bill Maher because frankly, I don’t really like Bill Maher. He comes off as smug and self-satisfied, perpetually smirking, smart-alecky and bumptious–a typical New York dick, as Ken Shakin  (also from New York) would put it. I remember one episode in which Mos Def appeared on the show, alongside Salman Rushdie and the late Christopher Hitchens. Mos Def basically had his own ass handed to him by the other three panelists, but then again, Mos Def had it coming: he is not the brightest bulb on the intellectual tree. My gut feeling was that Bill Maher allowed Mos Def on the panel discussion as a form of progressive comedy relief–a way of putting on a coon show while maintaining an illusion of “progressive inclusiveness,” or whatever the fuck you want to call that. In the end, the show–in my view, anyway–wound up putting niggers in their intellectual place again. Too bad I, or some other far more sharp-witted black intellectual (such as Playthell Benjamin or even Ta-Nehisi Coates) hadn’t been brought on the panel.

Coincidentally, Ta-Nehisi Coates did cross swords with Bill Maher a few years later when Maher brought up an old trope about blacks and Cadillacs. Unfortunately Coates appears to be too young to remember the stereotype; it must have went out with the seventies. And Maher must have forgotten an even older trope concerning Jews and Cadillacs, which probably bears some relation to the anti-Semitic notion that Jews are a bunch of “negrified Orientals” (the type of shit that Henry Ford, Celine and Gobineau were pushing nearly a century ago).**

To my mind, Maher simply isn’t a very funny man. He seems to rely on an old Jewish comedy shtick–the kind of thing Lenny Bruce, Groucho Marx, Mel Brooks (to cite a lesser example) did far better, which is take down everyone and everything around them with a sort of cruel, Swiftian irreverence. Maher tries too hard. His “house nigga” shtick would have come off better if he had known how to deflate that tension he had built up after he’d dropped The Word. Lenny Bruce could do this, but then again Bruce was a comedic genius. Bill Maher is not. He could, possibly, pull his head out of the dirt by appearing on his next show as an actual house nigger, swallow-tail coat, Yiddish accent and all, obsequiously serving ice tea to a frock-coated Ice Cube while muttering, “yassuh, boss.” Possibly.¹

*

Bill Cosby, meanwhile, is stewing in a boiling cauldron of legal issues that may or may not be of his own doing. Again–much like Bill Maher–I’m not a huge Cosby fan, though as kids we used to watch Fat Albert religiously (and even cruelly mocked it on private home-made comedy tapes, which were so offensive and obscene that Maher’s shtick would seem less than nothing). I didn’t like the Cosby Show of the Eighties, which to me epitomized that new buppie shit that I was inundated with by the end of that benighted decade. I view the Cosby debacle several ways: one, as an hysterically prudish reaction against the licentiousness of the 70s and 80s (when everybody who was sexually hip–or thought themselves to be–dropped Quaaludes, and said fuck all about it); two, as yet another media takedown of a black American icon, this one far more powerful and influential than O.J. Simpson could ever hope to be–he’d even considered buying NBC at one point (which is probably the real reason why the feds decided to jug him). After watching the Cosby case on TV or social media, one can never look back on his legacy with the same eyes: Fat Albert, his stand-up routines of the sixties, his show in the eighties and above all those books he authored on Parenthood and all that now appear shoddy and fraudulent. Again, this could be the whole rationale behind the Cosby case, in spite of the existence of Cosby’s court deposition.

The third way? I personally see Cosby’s downfall as an ironic comeuppance after his notorious “pound cake” speech. The absurdity of a man of Cosby’s stature resorting to drugging extremely ugly white women in order to bang them doesn’t quite add up, and the deposition appears to speak for itself. I would not be surprised if the deposition was faked, but I would be equally unsurprised if the deposition simply is what it is. The reason why I call all of this “comeuppance” is simple. Here you have a proud member of the black elite chiding the black lumpen-proletariat for not pulling up its pants or, to use Cosby’s words, “not holding up their own end of the deal”–when he himself has had quite a bit of trouble keeping his own pants on.

When I first heard the Pound Cake speech, I smirked. Oh, really? I thought, knowing full well that Cosby was an outrageous snob. Well, I then thought, upon further consideration, perhaps Cosby was right, when you look at how insufferably decadent African American cultural life had become by 2003-2004. Those were the “saggy pants” years, for those of you who have already forgotten; the years of Chingy, Plies, Snoop Dogg, Jay-Z, and a virtual avalanche of coonish, gold-toothed rappers that virtually no one in that fucked-up decade even thought to challenge. 50 Cent was not a “coon” then like he is now. 50 Cent, for better or worse, represented Black America throughout the world in the 2000s mass media. That was the rationale behind Cosby’s 2004 speech.

But I took issue with it because Cosby and his ilk (Michael Jordan, Kanye West, Jay-Z, etc.) are collectively worth hundreds of billions of dollars, and not a dime of their money has gone into creating the Black Economy that some of them love to talk about. They will weep crocodile tears over the 1921 tragedy in Tulsa while barely putting a penny towards the creation of another Black Wall Street, something which–even given today’s economic crisis–is entirely feasible. Whole skyscrapers lay vacant in downtown Detroit, and not one of these black elites–Cosby included–has ever considered buying even one of them, let alone five or six of them. Certainly 550 million dollars could cover the cost of purchasing and refurbishing downtown Detroit, if not that then maybe a billion–and what is a billion compared to the 1.1 trillion purchasing power of Black America?

Yet the thought has never crossed the minds of our black elite. I doubt if it had crossed Cosby’s mind. He had wished to buy NBC while completely ignoring the possibility of constructing his own alternative to NBC. Over one hundred years ago, when Jewish immigrants were run out of New York by Edison’s anti-Semitic goon squad–Edison’s henchmen targeted the nickelodeon trade of the early 1900s, which was primarily run by Jews–they moved as far away from the East Coast as they possibly could, finding cheap real estate in a little village called Hollywood-land. It was there that these immigrants created (to quote Neal Gabler) “an empire of their own,” one which, ironically, did precious little to either promote or enliven American Jewish or any Jewish culture anywhere in the world.

Instead, Jewish Hollywood promoted white, Anglo-Saxon (honky) culture and white, honky, Anglo-Saxon values. There is nothing even remotely Jewish about “Gone With the Wind” or “Meet Me in St. Louis” or any of the classic Hollywood films, and “The Jazz Singer” is too laughably corny for a racially sensitive soul such as myself to get angry about. (Seriously.) Actually, there’s nothing all that “Jewish” about Politically Incorrect (assuming that one can assign certain characteristics to “Jewishness”) but that’s beside the point. Once again, the American cultural elite has shown itself to be just that collection of cheap, shoddy, decadent bastards that they generally always were, with surprisingly few exceptions (and I won’t mention their private lives). Even if Bill Cosby didn’t drop Quaaludes in unsuspecting women’s drinks, the fact that he belonged to an elite that had done nothing to pull the black underclass out of its misery should give one pause. The fact that this decadent, do-nothing black elite has presided over a virtual cultural genocide for the past four decades in America–while fattening itself off the proceeds of that genocide, and making derisive and condescending speeches about the attendant social catastrophes of those years–should (ideally) piss somebody off.

This elite had a chance to build a new Black Wall Street far beyond anything their counterparts in the 1910s had ever dreamed of, and with far more resources at their disposal. Instead, they were too busy having fun at our expense–buying Bentleys, sniffing coke, jetting off to Rio and dropping roofies in whore’s drinks. And yet these pigs dare scoff at us rank-and-file black men and condescendingly tell us, with a goddamned jock’s sneer, to “man up” and “get a job”!!

*

*Another Bill, Bill O’Reilly, is just a joke, a fucking embarrassment to the neocon/neoliberal establishment, with his idiotic and antiquated Irish ethnic ressentiment towards “fags,” “coloreds” and “commie scum.” O’Reilly makes the white establishment look bad. He is the type of nitwit who appeals to New Jersey cops, Boston barflies, Trumpistani hardhats, and all those dolts in Arkansas who still think the Civil War was fought over “States Rights”–a dinosaur, a throwback to the days of Joe McCarthy and the fucking Honeymooners, so sidelining him is really no skin off Uncle Sam’s backside.  

**Cadillacs were once known disparagingly as “Jew canoes.”

¹Update, June 12, 2017: I actually listened to the show this time, and Ice Cube gave Bill Maher a well-deserved shove in the ribs. And Bill is still not Lenny, so if you haven’t seen the show don’t expect much. Dr. Dyson comes off as rather verbose and disturbingly obsequious.

The Global African: How Neoliberalism Infiltrated Black Politics

The more I examine the cancer that is neo-liberalism, the more I believe that the alt-right is merely a late-stage symptom of this political cancer. Neo-liberalism, being a sort of low-grade fascism to begin with (Mussolini himself defined fascism as a marriage between politics and corporate interests, a phenomenon which explains Neoliberalism perfectly, though few people want to admit this), will naturally manifest in its most extreme stages as Neo-Nazism. It is in the nature of Neoliberalism to absorb every opposition movement and turn it into one of its own. In fact it may very well be that the current opposition to the current world order is simply one of the many, many heads on this big bloated serpent called Neoliberalism, only a far prettier and more agreeable one. If this is true (and it’s still up for debate just how “real” the opposition to the current world political establishment is) then one can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that the many heads on the Neoliberalist serpent are beginning to bite each other.

So will Neoliberalism destroy itself? One can only hope. The only problem is this–what can we replace Neoliberalism with? A retooled and refined left-Socialism? Or a return to the ideals of the so-called “Great Society” of Lyndon Johnson which, on close scrutiny, weren’t all that great?

Beastrabban\'s Weblog

This is fascinating. It’s an attack on Neoliberalism from a Black American perspective, talking about the harm it has done to Black communities, churches, politics and people’s personal psychology and sense of self-worth. In this piece from the Global African, there’s a discussion between the host, Bill Fletcher, and a professor of Black Studies at Johns Hopkins university, Lester Spence about the harmful effects of Neoliberal economics. The second segment talks about the Paris conference on Climate Change, and the implications this has for communities in the Developing World.

They’re both important issues, but the piece that interested me was the first half, the critique of Neoliberal economics. Lester Spence, the professor being interviewed, has written a book about it. Apart from the economic theory itself, he also wanted to correct and supplement some of the ideas in Cornel West’s book, Racial Matters, and a work on Neoliberalism by a…

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To The Blaze, Fox News and Shitefart: Shove it Up Your Ass!!

This is a brief post, and a bit off the cuff.

Fox News–and the rest of the alt-shite bunch–apparently think people’s outrage over fascism is funny. They also think it is illegitimate and uncalled for, and that anyone who opposes them should simply stop whining like children and accept Trump as president. To my mind this is as idiotic as the Germans accepting Adolf Hitler as their chancellor–oh, wait, they already did that 84 years ago. Oops.

Oh, well. No use pulling up that analogy because we already know what happened in Europe six years after Hitler was “elected.” The gist of that fandango was that Der Fuehrer wound up burning Europe to the ground. The silver lining to World War Two was that a weakened Europe made possible the liberation movements of Africa, Asia and the Middle East. But that’s not the point.

The point is that whatever happened between 1933 and 1945 in Germany wasn’t very funny. Well, the alt-shite seems to think that it is. But they are free to laugh their asses off at the prospect of an American Fourth Reich, where protesters and “dindus” and “mudslimes” get gunned down in cold blood. There is no crime–legally, anyway–in laughing at other’s misfortunes. But the alt-shite remains utterly clueless to the untold millions of people who are furious with them, so let’s just let them laugh. Marie-Antoinette also laughed, as did King George III, Fulgencio Batista, and the last Czar of Russia. George Wallace also laughed before he had a few bullets pumped up his ass.

The so-called “Triggly-Prof” who exploded at police on NYU’s campus said exactly what needed to be said, and with the right amount of outrage. It is ludicrous to expect any conscious individual anywhere in the world to simply be “calm” and “objective” and “reasonable” in the face of an ultra-reactionary regime that, to put it very lightly, is doing everything wrong, is an international laughingstock, and thinks that World War Three will be just like the Super Bowl. It is important to protest, even though (admittedly) they have not gotten very far in deterring the Dakota Access Pipeline, let alone throwing Trump, Pence, Bannon, Sessions and all the other honky hoodlums in Guantanamo (where they belong). It is important and central to what a democracy is supposed to be–we all know that the United States has never been one, even from a purely technical standpoint, but that is also beside the point.

WE DON’T ACCEPT THIS ASSHOLE. Period. We are not obliged to accept the clown, let alone suck his goddamn dick.* The honkies and Gunga Din coons cheering him on are still infected with a retrograde British Tory feudal mindset that should have died out two hundred years ago, but didn’t–hence, Southern Culture. Let the rednecks blow his ass if that’s what they want to do. We refuse. We will continue making fun of this clown and driving him nuts until both he and his fucking goon squad call it quits. And if the Feds want to step in and silence us, let them do that; it should give the more milquetoast among us a backbone and stand up IN REAL TIME, and not with cheap memes ridiculing Trump’s fucked-up haircut.

What do I mean when I say STAND UP? Look at the ongoing protests in Romania, for example. And let’s recall how the so-called “Founding Fathers” reacted to England’s various Acts between 1765 and 1774. The very existence of the United States–not to mention the Great Western World–did not come about by holding up peace signs and making memes ridiculing the Kings of England and France, or the Czars, Archdukes, and other semi-feudal overlords of Europe’s past. Today’s “Enlightened West,” replete with functioning toilets, street lamps, subways, newspapers, a “free” press, separation of church and state, etc., came about through conflict.  Omelettes are not made with unbroken eggs.

Of course much of that “conflict” had dire implications for 4/5’s of humanity, something which the clueless and utterly solipsistic alt-shite does not seem to get. “Europe is virtually the creation of the Third World,” Fanon has written. The European/American alt-right can’t get it through their thick skulls that the “Islamofascists” they bitch about are, likewise, the virtual creation of the West, since “Islamofascism” (not withstanding occasional waves of religious fanaticism in pre-1492 Islam) has no precedent in Arab, Turkish, Persian or Mandinkan history before European colonialism. They don’t get it, and they never will. These same pigs squeal about Chicago and Baltimore and Detroit, about the niggers who live there and the “illegals” wreaking havoc, blah blah blah. They squeal so hysterically about it that they never stop to think how in the hell niggers and spics ever ended up in Chicago. The Trumpite thinks Chicago is actually in Africa though any cursory scanning of a map will tell you otherwise. But what’s logical about Trumpism?

The one good thing that can be said about this clique of redneck street thugs (ie., the Trump Cabinet) is that they are succeeding admirably in discrediting the American conservative movement. They have only been in the White House for two weeks, and yet they have done enough damage to American “conservatism” to last 50 years. Give them four more years (God forbid eight) and we will safely shove the American neo-con movement (of which Trump is the ultimate manifestation of, no matter what the alt-shite pretends to believe) on the shelf with Nazism, Stalinism, Pol Pot, Peronism and Jefferson Davis’ Lost Cause.

*If this is what Donald Duck really wants from people like us, then he should buy a one-way ticket to St. Petersburg. I’m sure he’ll have access to all the Russian scags his mouldy old heart desires. 

Cry, the Benighted Country (3): A Short Note on the Election of a Lunatic

Why am I not surprised at the outcome of the election?

And why am I not equally surprised when the redneck rubbish that supported him are now flashing their usual shitty grins, molding their greasy hands at the thought of all the “coons” and other “untermenschen” they think they are going to kill?

To be honest, I have been expecting this outcome since the late 80’s. I am not the only one, either. One of my teachers at Howard University, writer William Joyce, once stated to our class bluntly that “fascism is coming to the United States.” That was literally thirty years ago. Since that time Joyce has had sense enough to leave that ridiculous country behind him and start over in South America. Fascist sentiment among the majority of white Americans has been lurking just beneath the surface of their fat, bloated faces for decades.

However, the “liberals”–in reality, smug, self-satisfied moderates–have never taken such sentiments seriously, because the “liberal” likes to believe that his own sentiments are the laws of the universe.

I remember such “liberals” well. These nicey-nice folk have consistently ridiculed and patronized people such as myself. They have persistently addressed the most pressing problems in the United States and the world at large with what the French refer to as “langue de bois,” or wooden language–in other words, the sterile, idiotic double-speak of the academy. I have tried talking to these castrated buffoons for decades. I have insisted that the essential nature of the United States and of its white majority was fascistic. They called me and people like me “paranoid.” Some even suggested that the “problems” that I was “bitching” about were simply figments of a sexually frustrated imagination. I recall being told–and on more than one occasion–that I needed to just “calm down” and forget about the smoke that was rising from the floorboards of our collective house, that I needed to just “get a woman” or “get a life.”

As if having access to money and a large number of available sexual partners (which I have experienced from time to time) would shield one from the likelihood of getting murdered by the police or by a lynch mob, or stop a nutjob like Trump from becoming the most powerful man in the world.

2_ball
The new/old “settler” America awakens

Today I sit here on social media and read the depressing deluge of bitter messages decrying the election results. I am also reading about wild, savage packs of ofays grabbing women “by the pussy,” scrawling swastikas everywhere, spitting on Muslims, shooting protesters, beating gays to a bloody pulp, slapping Asians and mocking their English (and arresting them for being assaulted). I really don’t have much to say about all that at the moment, other than–I TOLD YOU SO. WE TOLD YOU SO.

WE HAVE BEEN WARNING YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKERS FOR DECADES ABOUT THESE SO-CALLED “GOOD” AMERICAN PEOPLE, AND ABOUT DEMAGOGUES LIKE DONALD TRUMP. We have told you that these people are no joke, that they don’t give a shit about “your” idea of America. They don’t want a “post-racial” America the way you see it because frankly, they have no idea what that is; they’re afraid of the very thought of what that might entail. They want the America they once knew–Dick van Dyke’s America. In black and white.

Now the truth has been set in your lap.

The truth is that American people would rather have a 70-year old con artist who “grabs women by the pussy” than Green Party candidate Jill Stein. The last thing working white America wanted was a dyke or a kike (or even another nigger) in the Oval Office. The young liberals and self-styled “radicals,” their tender souls “butt-hurt” over real or perceived “microagressions,” stood idly by, frustrated, confused, angry, scratching their empty heads while Hillary’s corrupt neo-liberal goon squad curtly pushed Bernie aside. (To Bernie’s discredit, he did not put up much of a fight after the states refused to count all of his ballots–millions and millions of them. It makes me suspect that Bernie simply threw the whole thing).

The truth is that your average “salt-of-the-earth” white American would rather eat out of the fucking garbage can with that orange-faced circus clown in the Oval Office, rather than sit pretty with a “nigger” in the White House, or with “faggots” sharing his bathroom or his workspace. The truth is that white America really lives in the 1930s (which is the only reason why they still love Swing music) whereas the rest of us are just slightly closer to the 21st century. Your average white Southerner still lives in the 1850s and right now is just salivating at the thought of whipping niggers again, stringing up wetbacks or dune coons and burning them alive. The truth is that the white American mainstream media has been dropping little hints down through the decades–through commercials, ads, movies, books, design, passive-aggressive remarks by politicians from both ends of the political spectrum–that they don’t really want Democracy: they want security and protection of their money and their property. They are SETTLERS. White, European settlers on non-white land. One need only look at white South Africans or Israelis or the pied-noir of Old French Algeria to see the truth of this. Or the British in Kenya. Or the Lebanese in West Africa or Brazil.

In fact, one need only look at a contemporary political map of the United States to see who voted for Herr Trump and who voted for Madame Shillery. The blue areas, who went for the latter, are represented almost entirely by the rotting metropolitan areas of the U.S.–and the red areas (Trump) are represented by the remaining 90+ geographic percentile of the United States. By the settlers, in other words. The map speaks volumes; it means that the bulk of the LAND in that country is in the hands of ultra-reactionary settlers. (It is the LAND that counts, ultimately. It is the LAND that so-called “progressives” in the U.S. should have set their political and social priorities on in the first goddamned place–NOT piece-meal handouts from a government that simply wants to keep its population (especially its minority population) docile.)

Liberals imagine that Democracy, in and of itself, constitutes a bulwark against authoritarianism and ultra-reactionism. They are wrong. In fact, fascism can function quite well within a Democratic framework, providing that the majority of the people within that Democracy harbor strong fascist and racist sentiments. If it is the will of the people to elect fascists to power, then fascists they shall get. This is but one factor that explains Trump’s triumph. (The other factor, of course, is that the so-called “left” made no effort to try and win over the alienated and uneducated poor whites, but instead spent the past four decades calling them “honkies” and “trailer trash.” Hell, even Fanon understood better than that. “The settler,” Fanon wrote, “is not merely someone to be killed.” If the Black Panthers could win over hard-core blue-collar whites into leftism–Chicago poor whites organized the Young Patriots, a group that actually appropriated the Confederate flag by putting a raised fist in it–then there was no reason in hell why the BLM and Occupy crowd could not have done the same.)

The current self-styled radicals–BLM, Occupy and the so-called Social Justice Warriors–brought nothing to the table that could have reasonably attracted some of these toothless poor whites. These “radicals” do not understand that whatever it is they want must be fought for, and most likely with blood. If they had had any common sense they would have worked themselves to the bone to win over enough poor whites to help sway the election. But since they were and are essentially Soros-funded* (like the Arab Spring crowd) and largely middle-class and coddled (and wanting to stay coddled) it simply never occurred to them to bring anything to the political/social/economic table other than angry whining. And the last thing a poor white redneck wants to hear is whining from people he’s been taught to despise for over three centuries.

The poor and middle-income whites–well over half of them–were foolish enough to vote into office a man who as soon watch them starve to death (like the British did the Irish) as he would drool over his own little daughter’s tits. The Latinos who voted for him did so because they hated “negritos” more than whitey did, and sincerely hoped he would keep out those hated “arabicos” and parvenu spics from Mexico who allegedly give Latinos a bad name with their mangled English and crude manners. The Negroes who voted for him were simply a bunch of misguided, macho shines who jump whenever whitey tells them to. Michael Moore accurately predicted that this man would win and that in the months to come, the after-party would turn into a prolonged socio-political-economic Walpurgisnacht. (Remember that this clueless frat-boy is also the Commander-in-Chief of the world’s most powerful army.)

Democratic fascism–fascism within a democratic political framework–has also been defined as “illiberal democracy” by Fareed Zakaria. America has been such since the very beginning. It has not changed.

Don’t be surprised if Donald pulls a Reichstag number by blowing up the fucking White House, or the Lincoln Memorial, or Roosevelt’s face on Mount Rushmore. If he does (through some useful idiots of his own) he’ll forget all the mealy-mouthed crap he’s been talking for the past 3 months or so in a weak attempt to placate Afro-Americans and Latino-Americans. He will turn a blind eye to radical right militia groups (in the US) if they decide to go on a bloody racist rampage. And since he seems to love Putin so much we should not be surprised if Trump takes it upon himself to mimic the worst aspects of the man–but in his own way. He has been a proven liar and backstabber. He is not above jettisoning all semblance of democratic order (not that there is much anymore in the US) and simply imposing flat-out martial law. He will stab the white working classes in the back; he won’t give them a penny, much less their old coal-mining jobs back. (And why would be, seeing that coal mining is now done largely by machines?)

It has been argued by some that Trump is not a true conservative; that he is, in fact, a liberal in far-right populist clothing. I don’t believe this is true. Donald Trump is only about–well, Donald Trump. This is old news. I predict that he will line his own purse with all the money he can steal from America, then hop on the soonest plane to St. Petersburg when the bombs start to drop. History will not look very kindly upon Trump and the alt-right “mainstream,” to put it very gently. After all Julius Streicher and Goebbels used to be the German “mainstream” eighty years ago.

Speaking of Nazi Germany–has anyone noticed that 11/9, in addition to being 9/11 in reverse, is also the anniversary of the infamous Kristallnacht of 1938?

*open to debate. I’m beginning to suspect that all these twitter and Facebook radicals who shriek about Soros are simply tagging him as an example of alleged “Jewish” control of the world.

Henry Miller, the Cops, and Keith Lamont Scott

“Months have passed since the incident and yet I can’t forget his face, his manner, his whole being. He’s a man, and I can say it calmly and soberly, whom I could kill in cold blood. I could shoot him down in the dark and go quietly about my business, as if I had just brushed a mosquito off my arm.

“He was unclean, unfit to associate with human kind, even with those misfits behind the bars. As long as I live I shall never forget that cruel, ash-grey face, those cold, beady man-hunter’s eyes. I hate him and all that he stands for. I hate him with an undying hatred. I would a thousand times rather be the most incorrigible convict than this hireling of those who are trying to maintain law and order. Law and order! Finally, when you see it staring at you through the barrel of a rifle, you know what it means. A bas puissance, justice, histoire! If society has to be protected by these inhuman monsters then to hell with society! If at the bottom of law and order there is only a man armed to the teeth, a man without a heart, without a conscience, then law and order are meaningless.”

–Henry Miller, “The Soul of Anesthesia,” The Air-Conditioned Nightmare.

*

Miller’s books are a grab-bag of sheer genius, sharp insight, German romantic bombast, and occasionally flat-out nonsense. Sometimes all four can manifest themselves on the same page, or even the same sentence. I have always been a fan of his works. Personally I take issue with his Orientalizing of blacks, Chinese, Jews, and others whom he idolizes as much as he trashes (well, that is Miller for you: he is, or was, a walking mass of contradictions). And you can have his romanticized view of the Old South, which comes perilously close to that reactionist old-school Agrarian crap–the kind of nonsense that Allen Tate and Company eulogized in I’ll Take My Stand (1929).

As a self-admitted “Brooklyn Boy,” I don’t think Miller ever truly understood what the South was all about, anymore than he truly understood Jews or African Americans or in particular the Chinese, whom he was overtly fond of extolling in long rhapsodic passages in his books. Miller was a first-generation German-American profoundly alienated from mainstream American culture. For Miller, the Others–whether artists like Kenneth Patchen, Beauford Delaney or Dr. Marion Souchon, or Jews (like Bezalel Schatz or his second wife, June Smerdt-Smith-Mansfield-Miller-Corbett), or blacks (like Duke Ellington, Delaney, DuBois and Armstrong)–were screens onto which he projected his own rage and disgust at Anglo-Celtic-Germanic America. Miller extols Patchen and Delany to tear down a philistine America. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, however: Anglo-America needed it. It still does. But all of this is beside the point.

I did not need Henry Miller to tell me anything about the brutality of American police, because I already know what American police are capable of. I posted the above quote because Miller’s sentiments about American law enforcement are precisely in alignment with my own. Miller’s disgust corroborates my own. Miller’s rejection of America’s phony sense of innocence regarding its treatment of criminals–not to mention the very society and culture that helps spawn these criminals–corroborates my own.

Keith Lamont Scott was not a criminal, but the cops in Charlotte-Mecklenburg wished to believe that he was. It’s an old, old story. Today the police in Charlotte have “confirmed” (not) that Keith Lamont Scott, who was killed on Tuesday, September 19th, actually did have a gun in his hands when they confronted him. Purportedly, the video footage (if one looks hard enough) shows that Mr. Scott was armed. According to Yahoo News:

Police say Scott was holding a handgun, which investigators recovered from an apartment complex in Charlotte, and posed a threat because he was not obeying police orders to remain in his vehicle and drop the weapon. An officer subsequently fired his gun, hitting Scott, who was later pronounced dead.

Scott’s family, however, said he was not armed and was holding a book while waiting for his son to be dropped off from school.

The officers were searching for a suspect who had an outstanding warrant, according to a police statement. Police said Scott was not the suspect officers sought.

Police have identified the officer involved in the shooting as Brentley Vinson, who has been employed with the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department since July 21, 2014, and is currently assigned to the metro division. He has been placed on paid administrative leave as the investigation continues, according to Putney.

Vinson was not wearing a body camera at the time, but the other officers who responded to the incident were.

My answer to all of this is simple. It does not matter if the late Mr. Scott was or was not carrying a gun in confrontation with the cops. I have not seen the footage. In my mind, it does not matter whether I see the footage or not. I am convinced that Mr. Scott would have been killed whether he was or was not armed. In that case he would have been better off taking one of those suited-up thugs with him to the other side.

There is really no point in going over this ground again. To quote the late, great James Baldwin, “it has been said, and said, and said; it has been heard and not heard.” It is well known that the American police, like the bulk of law enforcers the world over, simply do not, never have and never will have the interests of the average man or woman on their front burners. The cops may be human beings, but they serve the interests of beasts. The cops are in the streets of Charlotte, Washington, D.C., Houston, Baton Rouge, Baltimore, London, Paris, Harare, Mumbai, Istanbul and other urban cesspools to maintain what the elite of these respective nations has determined to be “order.”

This “order” can be spelled out in layman’s terms. We already know what it means. The order is a pyramid. We know that; it’s just that we are generally far at the bottom of the pyramid or, just perhaps, somewhere in the center, sandwiched between the big shits in the capstone and unwittingly putting more weight on those at the bottom of it. Those at the bottom are generally black, generally Africans, and carrying the stinking weight of the world. For them, life is often more unbearable than death; yet we wonder why so many of them resort to drugs or alcohol or kill each other in impotent rage, filled with anger that they feel they can’t take out on a cop, let alone an Elite. For the elites, life is generally light, airy, whimsical, full of humor and goofy things; that Hollywood actor is always full of gags if he’s not full of drugs.

But there is a difference. Mister Mega-Star takes drugs because it’s fashionable, not because he can’t deal with the struggle to feed himself, let alone his family. He can live wherever he wishes; he can have the sex partner or car of his choice, and show up wherever in the world he feels like in the blink of an eye. Hell, he can buy an island! If he feels miserable, it’s his own undoing, not that of society, since he IS society: his misery is simply an existential hangover, a feeling of emptiness, a crisis of conscience after being confronted with the cold reality of his fake, shallow lifestyle: Jay Gatsby multiplied by a thousand.

Mister Gatsby has several McMansions at his disposal; the poor darkie is lucky to have a room in a flophouse. Mister Gatsby is a gourmand who enjoys dining and stuffing himself until he bursts; the poor darkie who does the same in a fast food joint is a glutton. Mister Gatsby “collects” things but that blue-collar darkie is just wasting his money buying sneakers. Mister Gatsby has super-models waiting on him hand and foot, ready to sacrifice whatever radical feminist sentiments they may hold dear at a moment’s notice. The poor darkie, or wetback, or gook, who does the same, is “promiscuous,” not a “playboy.” His woman is a “skank” and a “hoodrat.” If he has no status within his community he has to content himself with his imagination; outside of his head, people flee from him in horror. He uses his right hand, or pretends he is gay; every day you see him haunting peep show booths and adult book stores, smelling like a goat and pawing over young men on buses and subways.  The entire value system of the society is determined strictly by color, even more so than class–which explains why an outrageous elite snob like Bill Cosby can have his reputation irreparably damaged yet Roman Polanski, Woody Allen or even Ed Gein and Charles Manson can be begrudgingly admired as “outlaws.”

Lousy food, lousy education, shitty housing, filthy streets, dysfunctional families, high unemployment or underemployment, tainted water, unclean air, a staggering murder rate, an out-of-control drug trade–not to mention the proliferation of alcohol establishments and shady “store-front” churches that no one likes to talk about: this is the world of the poor darkie. (The last two are just part of an underground economy in the black ghettos that has existed for literally centuries; again, nobody likes to talk about it.) This world is not “Africa” or “Ape-frica”: it is simply the dirty end of the American cloth, the one Uncle Sam uses to wipe his ass with. This “order” exists all over the world in varying degrees of severity. Not all of the ghettos are “black,” of course–sometimes they are white–but they might as well be: “black” is not a race, it’s a condition, as well as a state of mind. The overwhelming majority of the elites are on the precise opposite end of the color/caste spectrum, even if a few happen to be blacker than my wallet.

In other words, the very existence of cops is to protect Mister Gatsby from the poor darkie.

So in re-reading the above statement by Henry Miller, I am willing to absolve any one in those Benighted States who deems it necessary to carry a gun to defend himself against the cops. My heart does not in any way bleed for a cop shot in the head by some random citizen. Maybe I’m wrong on this score; maybe a murdered cop can be a “good guy.” But we all know that these “good cops” have usually toed the thin blue line of silence and complicity and kept their goddamned mouths shut as to the large number of domestic terrorists* among their ranks. Moreover, the police in America (and elsewhere) have made it perfectly clear that they see black people as moving targets. And seeing how they treat Native Americans on a regular basis, these cops still see themselves as a bunch of gun-toting cowboys–settlers, in other words. White, European settlers on red land.

We Afro-Americans know more than most that the cops are not our “buddies.” They are nobody’s friend, in spite of a few shining examples of cops who are caught doing some wonderful, charming things like buying ice cream for kids, or leading prayers, or partying–all caught on video camera to show the human side of an overwhelmingly oppressive force. Personally, I could fucking care less. A storm-trooper is a storm-trooper, even if he is doing the Charleston or the Suzy-Q. A nazi is a nazi, no matter if he reads my books or digs my paintings or my music. That nazi does not cease to be a nazi even if he takes off his uniform. He has to drop not only the Nazi ideology but the emotional and irrational racialism that made him put on the uniform in the first place.

There are many idiots, even avowed “liberals,” even Blacks, who still insist that in spite of the rapidly mounting evidence of police corruption and brutality, that The Law is The Law. It is not possible to tell these idiots that their forefathers spoke those exact same words at the height of Southern Jim Crow or even during slavery itself, or that Hitler’s, Stalin’s and Mao’s stooges operated precisely upon this same principle. No, sir. The Law is NOT The Law when it is 1) written by greedy psychopaths for the benefit of greedy psychopaths; 2) reinforced by murderous thugs. The Law is not Holy Writ. When the two situations above mutually manifest themselves within a given society, “The Law” has lost all moral authority–in which case, there has to be a new Law. But before there can be a New Law there must be a new and more just order. Until that time, citizens are obliged to defend themselves–even if violently–against the current socio-political Mafia that calls itself the New World Order.

*

“He had paid for his crimes in full, that is my belief,” writes Henry Miller. “If he should commit fresh ones I would blame it on the police, on the lawmakers, on the educators, on the clergy, on all those who believe in punishment, who refuse to help a man when he is down or try to understand him when in impotent rage he turns against the world. It doesn’t matter to me what crimes are chalked up against Clausen; our crimes, all of us who are on the outside, who go off scott-free, are greater. If we did not actually force him to become a criminal we most certainly helped him to remain one. And in speaking of Bud Clausen I am speaking for the great majority of men and women who suffered the same fate; I am speaking for all those to come, who will follow in his foot-steps and who have no redress until we on the outside become more enlightened and more humane.”

Thanks, Henry.

 

*It has been found that a disproportionate number of neo-Nazis and closet Klan members have also infiltrated America’s police, as well as America’s military (or “killitary,” to be more accurate). 

On the Unrelenting Horror that is the Third World

The so-called “Third World” is the biggest carrier of the disease of White Imperialism; in fact all of the sicknesses and taints of European thought and values, all of their lies, ignorance and stupidity, are magnified a hundred-fold in the so-called Third World. Third World does not connote anything positive. Third World is a by-word for everything wrong in the Universe.

The so-called Third World is obsessed with keeping alive all the old values of Queen Victoria, King Leopold, Cecil Rhodes, Woodrow Wilson, Teddy Roosevelt and other imperialist scum while in the West, young whites are increasingly rejecting these same rotten values. Therefore the invasion of the West by uneducated and misguided refugees does not represent a positive browning of Europe; it does not represent any kind of “de-honkification”; if anything it is, ironically, a re-honkification of the Western World for reasons stated above. The refugee, in some respects, is even more of a white man than the contemporary European, depending upon his class and educational status. The refugee—to say nothing of the African, Arab and Asian elite—maintains white, honky values at their purest and most racist, because he or she has either not been properly educated, or the education they have received is generally Westernized, or—most likely—the minds of too many of these refugees have already been contaminated with bad Western ideas and values. When they are educated, it is invariably a cracker education since the so-called Third World has not even attempted to revolutionize its own educational systems; they have not even thought about creating entirely new and improved systems of education that may rival or even surpass Western systems.

The task of the Third World, upon liberation from Western Colonialism, was to build an entirely new set of civilizations–NOT to serve as vassal states, or appendices or apprentices to the rotten white First World. The task of Africa, Asia, and Latin America was to create a viable alternative to Western Civilization. Instead what we got was Europe on steroids, but in blackface–and still more or less owned by Europe and/or America. What we got was more of the same white, honky bullshit, but dressed up to look “African” or “African-American” or “Brazilian” or “Indian” or “Nigerian” or “Vietnamese” or “Chinese” or even “Romanian” (if you can call Romania Third World, which it practically is in many respects).

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The end result of a Saudi bombing in Yemen, 2016

Please note: Nigger and Honky are two flip sides of the same coin, and always have been. Scratch a nigger and you will always find a honky bleeding.

Is it any surprise that the Third World is completely fucked, and will continue to collapse just as the First World continues its own implosion? This author is not. He has not seen it all but he would naturally assume that the so-called “Third World” would belly up when the West bellies up, because Third Worlders suffer from a horrible dependency complex. The election of either Trump or Hillary will essentially spell the end of the West as we know it, as the US is the leader of the alleged “Free World” (free for those who can afford it, of course). And since your average Third World big shit lacks ideas of his own, we should expect the Third World to ape America once again. They always do, and without fail. Every single US-influenced nation will probably take Trump’s lead and elect a lunatic dictator.

If this happens, the bulk of the blame for the ensuing Armageddon must naturally go to the Third World. Because they represent the lion’s share of humanity; because their nations are in desperate need of retooling in every conceivable area, they hold the responsibility of reshaping world civilization; they hold the responsibility of holding the greedy and war-profiteering capitalist West in check. Their primary responsibility is to THEIR OWN PEOPLE.

thai_jihad_7-vi
End result of a Muslim jihad in Thailand, 2008

Instead, they have repeatedly shirked this responsibility and served as hand-maidens, butlers, shoe-shine boys and prostitutes to Europe and America, often literally: Morocco, Tunisia, Brazil, DR, Kenya, Thailand, Indonesia and countless other so-called “Third World” nations are nothing but cheap brothels for the Developed World.

Morally speaking, these people are arguably worse than the average European or White American. The bulk of the blame for their moral degeneracy, naturally, must be placed on the shoulders of the Third World middle-classes and elites, who (with few exceptions) are the nastiest and most disgusting human beings ever to walk planet earth. They already have their own Hitlers; they have yet to start a World War. Unfortunately, that possibility cannot be ruled out, as nobody in the world seems to have the balls to try and stop them. The Indonesian elite, the Malay elite, the Rwandan elite, Congolese elite, Tunisian elite, Libyan elite, Egyptian elite, Nigerian elite, Chinese elite, Afghani elite and the Brazilian elite (just to cite a few of these respective horrors) can’t be criticized or exposed.

Of course not. There is no genuine intellectual tradition among these elites, short of sodomizing scholars, or baking students in ovens or simply forcing intellectuals into exile, into isolation in the West. Many of these intellectuals are themselves fraudulent, of course.

In the end we don’t have a new world, we don’t have a new civilization or any new way of thinking; just a bunch of ugly, dirty cities that look like a bunch of rotting projects; just illiteracy, disease, rudeness, vulgar tribalism, insanity, war, open sewers clogged with shit, rotting carcasses and flies. We have a return to feudalism and the bloodthirsty spirit of Neanderthal Man in blackface. The white man loves it, because it serves to make him look far more civilized and cultivated than he actually is. Every second the white racist whines about niggers and gooks but that is really just a part of the fun: dim-witted coonery and monkeyshines has always been a hot-ticket item for fat Western tourists.

The next great revolution should not be against the West, believe it or not: it should be against that stinking monstrosity the so-called “Third World,” the West’s loathsome half-castes; the half-Westerners who do the white man’s dirty work and who (as we should see) are indispensable to the success of the Western imperial adventure. For every redneck singing “Dixie” there are a hundred niggers, gooks and spics providing the back-up harmonies. They think the redneck is God. Without these spineless bastards, white supremacy would be defeated in a matter of months.